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MY LADY’S BARGAIN 



MY LADY’S 
BARGAIN 



NEW YORK AND LONDON 

THE CENTURY CO. 
1923 

























Copyright, 1923, by 
The Century Co. 



#/• 7' r 

PRINTED IN U. S. A. 


JAN 22 ’23 1 ft 

©C1AG92080 

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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I 

A Blow and a Kiss . 




PAGE 

• 3 

II 

My Lady’s Relatives . 




. 24 

III 

Job Forster . 




. 46 

IV 

Doors Locked and Unlocked 




. 72 

V 

‘‘The Blue Boar” . . . 




. 90 

VI 

Laying a Trap .... 





VII 

The New Footman . 




. 120 

VIII 

A Second Kiss .... 




• 135 

IX 

The Fateful Number . 




• 154 

X 

Picard’s Reflections . 





XI 

Captain Lovet’s Visit . 





XII 

A Question of Sincerity . 




. 202 

XIII 

A Life for a Life . 




. 217 

XIV 

A Ride against Time . 




. 230 

XV 

Accepting Defeat . 




. 244 

XVI 

“Have you got the Man?” 




• 257 

XVII 

Sentenced. 





XVIII 

A Family Party .... 




• 293 


















\ 





MY LADY’S BARGAIN 




















































































MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


CHAPTER I 

A BLOW AND A KISS 

H IS Highness looked up as I entered. 

“That you, Williams? Good. I sent for 
you in order to inform you that Lady Killi- 
gew agrees to the bargain, so there need be no delay 
in your marriage. The sooner the knot is tied the 
better, I think. My wedding gift to the lady shall 
be a pardon for her young brother and a passport for 
the same overseas; but I do not deliver these until the 
Lady Killigew has become Lady Rosamond Williams, 
and her estates safely in your honest keeping, General.” 

I saluted with all due deference, and it seemed as if 
the interview was terminated, for Cromwell turned 
back to some papers he had been examining at my en¬ 
try; however, I knew my man, and waited patiently 
for his next step, whatever it might be. It came al¬ 
most immediately. Lifting his eyes swiftly from the 
papers before him, he swept my face with his search¬ 
ing gaze. 


3 


4 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“I understand that Lady Killigew is a very beautiful 
woman, though I have never personally met her. I 
think you come from Surrey yourself, General Wil¬ 
liams; perhaps you are already intimately acquainted 
with the lady of your choice?” 

I am naturally slow of speech, as possibly the major¬ 
ity of big men are, and this deliberation has stood me 
in good stead time and again. 

On this occasion my habitual manner of pausing 
before answering a question gave me the opportunity 
I needed to consider what facts I had better disclose 
and what I could safely keep back in my reply. 

Had I been dealing with a less subtle man I might 
have been tempted to try a lie direct, or possibly an 
admixture of truth and falsehood; and, had I done so, 
Oliver, in all probability, would not have thought any 
the worse of me, for his Highness was by no means 
particular as to truthfulness himself; but the trouble 
would come later, should he ever discover I had de¬ 
ceived him deliberately, for then he would not rest, 
I knew, until he had found out the full reason for 
my deception. In the intricacies of this man’s strange 
mind was an insatiable curiosity as to the minutest 
detail and an uncanny memory for the same. 

I decided, therefore, upon entire truthfulness up to 
a certain point, with the hope that any suspicions that 
might be lying dormant in the great man’s mind might 
be so far allayed that he would not think it necessary 
to inquire further; for there were certain facts in my 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


5 

past which, should they come to his knowledge, would 
not benefit my position with him. 

“Your Highness knows that I am a man of the 
people/’ I began gravely. “I am of quite lowly birth. 
My father was, until his death, blacksmith on the Sur¬ 
rey estate of the first Lord Lovet. I was born in a 
cottage at the park gates, and my mother acted as 
gate-keeper for many years, until age and infirmity 
prevented even this activity. She is now bed-ridden 
and lives in a small cottage upon the common, within 
three miles of our old home. It would break her heart 
to leave the district, and her great desire is that I 
should come to live near her. 

“As a bare-legged urchin I often saw little Lady 
Rosamond riding past upon her pony, and, indeed, fre¬ 
quently held the gates open for her and for other mem¬ 
bers of the family, for Lord Lovet resided principally 
at Rookherst Place in those days. 

“At the age of seventeen, however, I left home and 
never returned except on rare and fleeting visits. My 
history from the age of twenty-two I believe I can 
flatter myself is already known to your Highness.” 

Oliver Cromwell nodded. The ingenuousness of 
my reply evidently satisfied him, and he now regarded 
me with friendly curiosity. 

“I confess your choice appears to me to be unwise, 
Williams. You would have done better, in my hum¬ 
ble estimation, to have fixed upon the alternative I 
offered you. The young heiress of fifteen would be 


6 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


easily molded into shape, but a woman of twenty-five 
at least, and a widow to boot, is a much more com¬ 
plex problem. However, I can understand your wish 
to be near your only remaining parent; a mother’s 
love can only be partially repaid by a son’s utmost de¬ 
votion, as I myself know to the full. Still, I misdoubt 
the future for you, General. However, I have always 
suspected you had a bit of the gambler in your dis¬ 
position, for all your outward caution, and if you bring 
the same methods to bear upon your matrimonial dif¬ 
ficulties that you do upon military problems, and handle 
your future wife as you do your men, you will deserve 
to succeed. You will make your own arrangements 
as to the wedding, to suit your convenience; the lady, 
I fancy, will be indifferent as to details of date and 
hour and place,” he added with a slightly grim smile. 

Then, with a friendly handshake, he dismissed me; 
but, as I passed over the threshold, with his habitual 
caution he drew a bow at a venture, and remarked 
casually: 

“By the way, do not lose sight of the fact that 
Lady Killigew has been, up till now, hand in glove 
with the malcontents, and a most useful agent for our 
friends overseas. Once she is under your authority 
I shall expect to feel no further anxiety from that 
source.” 

For the third time I saluted deferentially, and was 
this time suffered to depart. 

If the soul of a gambler resembles mine at that 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


7 


moment, it must be a most unenviable one, for, far 
from feeling any jubilant anticipation or thrill of ex¬ 
citement, I must have been the most doubtful and de¬ 
pressed man in Whitehall that afternoon, as I made 
my solitary way along the great gallery. 

For I, Peter Williams, a major-general in the army 
of the Commonwealth and son of a country black¬ 
smith, was about to undertake a most insane step. 
I was contemplating marriage with a woman of in¬ 
dependent wealth and of culture and birth far above 
my own, a widow, also, and not a widow of a manage 
de convenance either, but the widow of a love match, 
the idolized husband having only been removed by 
death in a revolutionary affray within the last three 
months. The position would appear hopeless enough 
at that, but, to add to the folly of it all, I, the son 
of the blacksmith, was in love with the lady, and had 
been in love with her for as long as I could remember. 

It was this fact, for one, that I wished to keep from 
Cromwell’s knowledge, for, as like as not, had he sus¬ 
pected any such blind infatuation on the part of his 
apparently phlegmatic subordinate, he would have can¬ 
celed the contract on the spot, for it might lead to 
dangerous consequences to have a trusted officer madly 
in love with a recognized Royalist agent. As it ap¬ 
peared on the surface, the marriage was just one after 
his own heart, for Cromwell, with his usual hatred of 
using force or cruelty where milder methods would 
answer equally effectually, was fond of arranging such 


8 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


marriages as this one, where, with no open show of 
coercion, Royalist estates and family sympathies could 
be gently brought over to the side of the Common¬ 
wealth. 

In this instance the coercion was perhaps more ap¬ 
parent than usual, for young Lady Killigew, heiress 
in her own right to the estate of Rookherst, in Surrey, 
would certainly never have consented to remarriage 
had it not been for the unfortunate fact that her only 
brother, younger than herself and most dearly beloved, 
was now a prisoner in the Tower under sentence of 
death for seditious plotting against the state. To se¬ 
cure his pardon and release, his sister had agreed to 
accept any husband the state (which meant the protec¬ 
tor) should think fit to choose for her, and to hand over 
the title-deeds of Rookherst to the said husband upon 
the wedding day. 

It might be argued, the same object could have been 
attained by forcing the heiress to make over her estates 
as a whole without her person, but this more brutal 
form of confiscation did not meet with Oliver’s ap¬ 
proval; as he explained in his laborious, involved way 
to me, a better and more lasting value was gained by 
looking ahead, for, by a marriage like this one, the off¬ 
spring of such a union were in the natural line and yet 
were secured for the further support of the state as 
descendants of a loyal Republican father, thus avoid¬ 
ing ill-feeling and old family sores. The lord protec¬ 
tor had earlier in the proceedings commented upon the 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


9 

fortunate fact of there being no issue of the first mar¬ 
riage in the case of Lady Killigew. 

“I hope you will soon have a son to carry on the 
good old principles,” he had said genially, and I re¬ 
called the words now with mixed feelings, as I made 
my gloomy way home to my quarters at St. James’s. 

Once arrived in my own room, I sat down, and, 
filling my pipe, deliberately marshaled all the facts be¬ 
fore my mind’s judgment, and the verdict given with¬ 
out hesitation was that I, Peter Williams, was a fool 
and deserved all the misery which would inevitably 
come upon me. 

The mischief had begun when, as a ragged boy of 
ten, I stopped to admire the golden-headed little girl 
of six, scolding her placid nurse, striking her with her 
baby fists, and stamping her little arched feet with 
imperious rage. 

The stout nurse had only smiled and meekly yielded 
the point, whatever it was, for that detail has escaped 
my memory. 

From that day onward the golden-haired child be¬ 
came my obsession. I used to watch for her from my 
mother’s cottage window, eager to run out and open 
the great iron gates for her, longing in vain for a look, 
or smile of thanks, satisfied for the moment if her blue 
eyes even rested casually upon me. It was folly, and 
a folly I recognized as such, and carefully kept hidden 
from the knowledge of my big, sensible father and my 
wise, loving mother. 


IO 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


As the years passed and I grew up into young man¬ 
hood, my parents began to look round for a mate for 
me, and their choice fell upon my cousin Matilda, a 
sober, godly young woman, in every way fitted to make 
me just such a wife as would keep me in the straight 
paths of virtue and sobriety, and perhaps restrain a 
certain headstrong tendency to sow wild oats. 

But, alas for their hopes and loving plans, no cousin 
Matilda would do for me. I was sincerely fond of 
my cousin, but ask her to marry me I would not. 

Other suitable maids were suggested, but from all 
of them I turned with the same feeling of aversion, 
quite inexplicable to my parents, who became seriously 
annoyed with me. 

It was just about this time that an accident occurred 
which altered the whole course of my life, and prob¬ 
ably had more to do with bringing me into my present 
situation than anything else. 

It occurred in this wise. 

I was then seventeen and the little Lady Rosamond 
must have been thirteen, and just recently affianced to 
my Lord Killigew, a penniless Irish nobleman, some 
years her senior, to whom she had furiously lost her 
heart. There had been opposition to the engagement 
on the part of Lord and Lady Lovet, who had planned 
great things for their beautiful daughter, but the 
spoiled darling inevitably carried her way, and the 
match was duly arranged. 

The engaged couple came riding down the avenue 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


ii 


one sunny afternoon when the chestnuts were in blos¬ 
som, and I happened to have strolled out, all grimy 
from my father’s forge, for I helped him at the anvil 
now. 

At the sight of their smiling, contented faces a fit 
of mad jealousy took possession of me. Instead of 
hastening forward, as I should, to open the gates for 
my master’s daughter, I continued to lounge at the en¬ 
trance to the forge, as though I was unaware of their 
approach. 

Even at a sharp reminder from the young man I 
did not hurry, but moved in so leisurely a fashion that 
the horses’ breasts were almost upon the gates before 
they could rein them in. 

I admit it was reprehensible, but I was tired of per¬ 
petually cringing and begging, as it were, for the favor 
of a kind glance or even a word of common courtesy 
through all the past years. 

I would win some notice by the reverse method, if 
by no other; and I certainly did so, for with a furious 
gesture the beautiful girl turned upon me, whip raised 
in hand. 

“You unmannerly lout,” she exclaimed. “Let this 
teach you behavior,” and she brought the whip down 
with all her pretty strength. 

I fancy she must have expected me to duck my head, 
or guard myself with my arm, but, as I did neither, 
the lash curled round my face and neck with a whistling 
sound, and I can almost feel the sting of it now, 


12 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


No doubt perturbed by the sight of the lash-mark, 
which must have been doubly noticeable through the 
grime upon my cheeks, Lord Killigew ventured a mild 
remonstrance with his lady-love, but she evinced no 
sort of contrition, and on the contrary exclaimed de¬ 
cisively : 

“The creature deserved all he got, and will receive 
even another such stroke if he does not profit by this 
lesson. Marry, you great loon, will you remember 
that, and speed your lumbering person the next time 
I require the gate opened?” 

It was certainly magnificent, if entirely unladylike, 
and I ruefully acknowledged that she had in no whit 
lost her place in my youthful estimation by her chas¬ 
tisement of myself. 

I was angry, all the same, and the smart on my face 
added to the heat in my heart, and no doubt gave to 
my expression a forbidding aspect, which was care¬ 
fully noted by the Irishman, as was proved before 
long. 

This is what I learned later through my cousin 
Matilda, who was by this time employed as one of the 
still-room maids at the big house. 

It seems Lord Killigew, on his return, went at once 
to Lord and Lady Lovet, and gave them an ornate ac¬ 
count of the incident, expressing some fears on his 
fiancee’s account lest the ill-looking ragamuffin who 
had figured so undignifiedly in the affair should attempt 
some form of revenge. 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


13 


My Lady Lovet, from whom her daughter had in¬ 
herited her hot temper and imperious will, was all 
for having the aforesaid ruffian clapped in the stocks 
at once and soundly whipped later on at the cart’s 
tail, but her lord, being a singularly just man and wish¬ 
ful to avoid all scandal, decided it would be best to 
have the blacksmith’s son deported from the county as 
a ne’er-do-well, and, being a justice of the peace, this 
order was duly carried out, with the result that I left 
my home hurriedly one night, at the age of seventeen, 
to seek my fortunes elsewhere. Within the same year 
the Civil War broke out, and by force of circumstances 
more than from any clearly formed principles I joined 
the side of the Parliament and at once found my 
sphere. 

It is a little difficult for me to judge now as to 
whether, had all things moved normally, and I had been 
in the employment of the Lovet family, I should still 
have taken up the opposing side in this great quarrel. 
Probably I should have begun by throwing in my lot 
vehemently on the side of my Lady Rosamond, but I 
believe that before long my slowly developing princi¬ 
ples and ingrained passion for emancipation and self- 
expression would have forced me, all unwillingly, to 
go over to the Roundheads, as we came to be called. 

I was saved any such deliberate and painful wrench 
by the play of circumstance. 

My career in the army was one continued upward 
progress; fortune played into my hands all along; I 


14 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


was a free agent, with no responsibilities and a natural 
aptitude for fighting; I had inherited my father’s phy¬ 
sique and something of my mother’s Scotch foresight 
and caution, all of which stood me in good stead. It 
was the day for rapid promotion; ancient landmarks 
and old lines of social cleavage were swept away, and 
the successful soldier, whatever his birth, carried all 
before him. 

I came beneath the notice of Sir Thomas Fairfax. 
He was a quiet, reserved man, little known at that 
time and handicapped by a stammer, but he suddenly 
pushed through to the top of things, and I came up 
with him. 

I now come to the second episode which I was anx¬ 
ious to keep outside the protector’s ken. 

While serving under Sir Michael Livesey in Surrey, 
I was in command at Redhill during the Royalist ris¬ 
ing of June, 1648, and, as luck would have it, found 
myself harassed by a small but resolute body of the 
enemy who had made Rookherst Place their headquar¬ 
ters. 

There was no alternative but by forced marches to 
bear down upon the stronghold and force its surren¬ 
der. 

We mapped out our attack carefully, and I was 
warned by my superior to expect a bloody affray and 
much loss of life on both sides, but I thought otherwise, 
and trusting to my intimate acquaintance with the 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


15 

geography of the place laid my plans accordingly. 

It turned out even better than I had dared hope. 
The surprise was complete, so much so that my men 
had cut off the force garrisoned in the outbuildings 
within the moat, and had actually taken possession of 
half the house itself before the servants and household 
were awakened by the disturbance. 

We then had only the actual household retinue and 
the women-folk to deal with, and, what was more, I 
learned that my Lord Killigew was abed with his lady, 
fearing no ill and trusting in his stalwart sentries upon 
the moat, all of whom were at that moment, unarmed, 
cursing and swearing and kicking at the doors of a 
large cowshed. 

The family sleeping apartments at Rookherst Place 
are entirely separate from the rest of the house, oc¬ 
cupying the extreme eastern wing; and by holding the 
main staircase, which descends into a great paneled 
hall, we had completely cut off this wing from the main 
part of the building and thus held my lord and lady 
and my lady’s personal waiting maids prisoners at our 
mercy. 

Notwithstanding this, however, one daring man, 
well armed, could do much havoc as a sharpshooter, 
for there was a small window belonging to one of the 
bedrooms projecting into the great hall, and at this 
window protruded the barrel of a rifle. 

The fight had been bloodless so far, and it appeared 


i6 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


to me a pity to lose even one of my brave fellows 
if it could be avoided, and so I raised my voice and 
stated my terms: 

“Unless Lord Killigew comes down alone and un¬ 
armed within ten minutes, I will shoot offhand twenty 
of his men, loot the entire premises, and then set fire 
to the house. If his lordship surrenders himself, the 
rest of the household may go their way unmolested, 
and the house shall be put under careful guard and its 
treasures preserved.” 

I was well aware that to secure the person of his 
lordship would be a feather in my cap and worth any 
concessions, for he was already famed for his reckless 
courage and daredevilry as a leader of cavalry, and 
had been marked down as a formidable foe, with a 
price upon his capture, alive or dead. True, by sur¬ 
rendering himself he would be giving himself up to 
imprisonment for life, if not to certain death; but that 
was his affair, not mine, and I was fully resolved to 
carry out my threat if need be. One cannot afford 
to be squeamish in war. 

I gathered that there was a hurried consultation in 
the room behind the window ; the barrel of the rifle 
was still visible, but I could catch the sound of low 
voices from within the room in earnest colloquy. 

Acting upon my orders, a score of the disarmed 
guard were formed up in the open doorway behind 
which we stood, in full view of the window, so as to 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


17 

add point to my words. This evidently had the desired 
effect, for a man’s voice presently called out from the 
upper room: 

“Lord Killigew is prepared to submit to your de¬ 
mand, and will surrender himself on condition that 
you let all these men go free and evacuate the house 
and grounds.” 

“Form these men up outside and prepare a squad 
to shoot,” I commanded curtly. “Also have fagots 
brought in to fire the place.” 

There came an angry oath from the window, and 
the same voice spoke hurriedly: 

“Have it your own way, and a curse on you. I 
will come down.” 

And come down he did. It was the middle of the 
night, and the place was badly lit with a few candles 
and torches we had brought with us, and as the solitary 
figure, fully dressed in military cloak and helmet, de¬ 
scended the wide staircase, my captain nudged me and 
whispered: 

“We had best have a care, sir, had we not, that 
there is no deception practised: this may not be Lord 
Killigew. How shall we tell?” 

“I know Lord Killigew well by sight,” I replied 
shortly. “I cannot make any mistake.” 

As soon as the man was within distance, after I had 
made sure he was unarmed, I took a step forward, 
and, snatching a torch from one of my men, flashed it 


i8 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


over his face. The scrutiny satisfied me, and I gave 
orders for the prisoner to be removed behind, under 
close guard, until I could deal with him. 

Then I called out in a loud voice: 

“Will Lady Killigew and her women please come 
down. I pledge my word she shall be permitted to 
go her way unmolested.” 

Four figures, heavily cloaked and hooded, forthwith 
descended the stairs and crossed the great hall, a deso¬ 
late little group, walking reluctantly. 

“Which is Lady Killigew?” I asked. One of the 
women took a short step forward and replied in a low 
but firm voice: 

“I am Lady Killigew.” 

I did not trouble to resort to the torch. 

“Very well, madam. I will instruct my men to see 
that you and your attendants are suitably mounted. 
I am sorry I cannot permit you to speak with your 
husband. Captain Forbes, please see to my Lady 
Killigew’s requirements.” 

Turning away, I motioned the guard to conduct their 
prisoner to a smaller room, evidently a dining-room, 
which opened out of the main passage leading from 
the outer entrance to the large hall. 

“You can leave Lord Killigew here. I wish to have 
a word with him in private. See if you can find some 
wine and other viands, and bring in some more 
candles,” I ordered. 

An old man herewith hurried forward from some 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


19 


dark doorway, and I recognized with amusement the 
family steward, Masterman, whom I had known by 
sight from my childhood. 

“May I be permitted to wait upon my lord for the 
last time, sir?” he quavered. “I am an old, old man; 
you need have no fear of me, and I should esteem it 
a great favor. I have the key of the wine-cellar,” he 
added craftily. 

I nearly laughed aloud, so well did he simulate ex¬ 
treme old age. He could not be much above fifty, I 
knew, but in the uncertain light and with his shoulders 
humped up and a rickety gait the illusion was com¬ 
plete. I could not but admire and respect his faithful 
courage. 

“Very well, old man,” I replied; “go and get some 
wine for your master, and be as quick about it as 
your age permits.” 

I waited for the door to close upon the two of us 
before I remarked carelessly: 

“Well, my Lady, what have you to say for your¬ 
self?” 

With a startled cry she lifted her head and let the 
candle-light flash beneath the heavy-brimmed helmet. 

“You knew! How did you know, and when?” 

“I knew from the moment I passed the torch over 
your face,” I replied equably. “You see, I happen 
to be acquainted with your husband’s features.” 

“He said he had never met you before, to his knowl¬ 
edge,” she said, dismay in her voice. Obviously she 


20 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


had hoped to keep up the ruse until the escaping party 
had had time to put several miles between themselves 
and me. >She now dreaded their recapture, and her 
uneasiness was pitiful. 

I regarded her in silence for a few seconds, dwell¬ 
ing upon the perfect features, and noting the familiar 
imperious little mouth. Then I said slowly: 

“There is time to send several parties after your 
husband, and I have no doubt at all but that we should 
cut them off successfully.” 

“Why do you not do it, then?” she cried, stamping 
her foot with nervous irritation. “Why are you play¬ 
ing with me?” 

“I am not exactly playing with you,” I replied. “I 
am exacting a payment. Listen. Upon one condi¬ 
tion, and one only, will I let your husband escape. 
There is not much time; your steward will be back in 
a few minutes, and then it will be too late. If you 
will give me a kiss, I will give you your husband’s 
life.” 

Her eyes blazed upon me like sapphire flame. 

“Kiss you! How dare you! you hound!” 

“Very well,” I replied composedly, rising to my 
feet. 

“Nay—stop! I- Why do you ask this? 

What payment do you mean?” 

“That is my affair, madam. You are merely los¬ 
ing time.” 



A BLOW AND A KISS 


21 


She looked at me with a sort of helpless rage which 
was almost ludicrous. 

Then she took a step forward. Then another, and 
another, until she was close to me. 

Here she paused and drew herself up with a haughty 
movement, and waited. 

I waited also. 

Obviously she expected me to take the opportunity 
graciously accorded by her to kiss her. 

As I made no move, she drew her delicate brows 
together sharply, but there was also perplexity in her 
expression. 

“I did not say that I should kiss you, madam; I 
said I required a kiss from you.” 

Her anger broke out afresh. 

“Your impertinence is insufferable. I would rather 
die than do it.” 

“Quite likely,” replied I; “but, as it happens, it is 
your husband’s life, not yours, which will be sacrificed 
by your foolish self-will and vanity.” 

The struggle in her soul showed itself pitiably in 
her beautiful face. Then love conquered; stooping 
toward me, she hesitated, and then whispered: 

“Where do you wish me to kiss you?” 

I thought of my swollen, bleeding lips from the 
whip-lash. 

“Kiss me full on the mouth,” I said deliberately, and 
she obeyed, 


22 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


The deed was scarcely done when steps sounded in 
the flagged passage, and the door was opened care¬ 
fully by the steward, bearing a tray of food and wine. 

He shuffled forward with the uncertain footsteps of 
the aged, but as his gaze fell upon his young mistress 
all semblance of age left him. 

Straightening himself up with a comical jerk, he 
ejaculated in a forceful voice: 

^Good God have mercy upon us! What are you 
doing here, my Lady? Where is his lordship?” 

“His lordship, I hope, is now in safety,” she replied 
gently, her face aglow with the new joy of self-sacri¬ 
fice. It had been a case of taming the shrew tempora¬ 
rily at any rate, and there remained no doubt in my 
mind that she loved her husband. 

The faithful servant now turned to stare in a puz¬ 
zled way at me. There must have been some chord of 
memory touched by my appearance, possibly a resem¬ 
blance to my father, but he evidently could not for the 
moment explain it, for my name was as yet unknown 
to both my companions. 

“You appear to have become rejuvenated in an 
extraordinary way, Mr. Steward,” I remarked with 
a grin. “Perhaps, after all, you are not too infirm to 
act as escort to her ladyship as I had feared. Could 
you undertake to see her into some place of safety 
ere morning, if I provide you with mounts?” 

The man’s fine face lit up with surprise and grati¬ 
tude, but there was no hint of the latter sentiment in 


A BLOW AND A KISS 


23 


my lady’s. She was evidently satisfied with the ex¬ 
planation I had given for my queer action, and believed 
it was some self-indulgent whim and no quixotic mo¬ 
tive that had actuated me. 

It was some time before the laugh in the barrack- 
room ceased over the way in which the colonel had 
been tricked by a woman. My captain was a thought¬ 
ful young man and may have made a shrewd guess 
at the mystery, but if so he allowed no hint to leak 
out. 

I made the best explanation I could to Lord Fair¬ 
fax. Had I had General Cromwell to deal with I 
fancy I should not have come through so well, but 
Fairfax was a peculiarly generous man, and would 
have been likely to do just such an action himself. 
At the time also he was hard pressed for men and 
supplies, and too thankful to learn that I had captured 
the rebel headquarters with so little expenditure of 
either to complain much of the bungling through which 
the leader had been allowed to slip away. 

This was the episode I was anxious to keep from 
Cromwell, for he might well argue that an officer who 
could let sentiment outweigh his sense of duty was 
not a safe person to place in the way of similar tempta¬ 
tion again. 


CHAPTER II 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 

A BOUT a fortnight before my wedding I went 
home to visit my mother. I had already in¬ 
formed her by letter of the step I purposed 
to take, so that she was forewarned, and I was pre¬ 
pared for some straight words on the subject, for my 
mother was direct in all her ways and still looked upon 
me as her wayward boy, to be counseled or chided as 
the case required. 

Nor was I mistaken. I found my mother greatly 
perturbed over the matter, and she did her utmost to 
shake me in my mad resolve while there was yet time 
to withdraw. Finding that futile, she at length de¬ 
sisted and, gazing at me sadly, said: 

“l had hoped you would have grown out of it.” 
“Grown out of it? What do you mean, Mother?” 
I exclaimed in amazement. 

“I always feared this, my son,” she replied quietly. 
“I used to notice how you watched for the little Lady 
Rosamond from the window at the old cottage, and I 
saw how the thought of her possessed you; but I hoped 
that the years of separation from the sight of her 

24 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


25 


would dull the passion. I kept the knowledge from 
your father, lad, because I knew it would vex him. He 
being so set upon the gentry, it would have seemed to 
him a shocking thing for one of his blood to lift his 
eyes to a lady of birth. And, ah! my boy, I fear me 
such a passion will bring naught but ill-fortune upon 
you. I can see nothing but trouble ahead. It is not 
even as though you would be going to live in some part 
where you would not be known. You are coming 
back to a neighborhood where every one knew you 
before as the son of Peter the Blacksmith. Her lady¬ 
ship cannot fail to look upon it as a double insult to 
herself. To be forced to give herself in marriage at 
all, so soon after her husband’s death, is a hard enough 
yoke for her proud neck to bear, but how much harder 
to have added to that the bitter fact that the man she 
must marry should have actually once been a servant 
on the estate. It must seem to her insupportable. I 
cannot understand, myself, how it is she appears to 
have consented. Are you sure she comprehends who 
you are, Peter, and is doing it with her eyes open?’* 

I nodded gloomily. 

“Yes, Mother; all the facts have been told her. 
She cannot very well refuse, you see, for the lord pro¬ 
tector has signified that it is his wish that I should be 
the suitor chosen for her, and when her relations made 
some demur he made short work of it, and threatened 
to withdraw his proposal altogether and have the young 
Lord Lovet hanged without delay.” 


26 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


My mother sighed deeply. 

“It is as if it were the decree of heaven,” she said 
sadly. “Everything has seemed to conspire to force 
her into your arms when on the face of it such a hap¬ 
pening would appear to be incredible. Well, my son, 
since it must be, let it be carried through with wisdom 
and discretion. Remember that by marrying Lady 
Rosamond you become her rightful lord and master. 
You must not lose sight of that fact. Do not let her 
trample disdainfully upon you and treat you as dust 
beneath her delicate feet, as she will if you permit it, 
for, noble-born lady though she be, we know her high 
bearing and undisciplined temper. She hath been 
spoiled and yielded to all her life, doted upon by her 
parents and by her husband, with every whim ’and 
caprice satisfied. Unless you can hold your place, my 
son, your place will soon not hold you, and you will 
become not only the talk of the countryside, as you 
are at present, but also the laughing-stock of the same 
before the year is out.” 

Plain speech, this, from my old mother, and I ad¬ 
mired and loved her for it. 

I kissed her pink, wrinkled cheek, and replied duti¬ 
fully : 

“I will strive to follow* your advice, Mother.” 

She held me from her by her withered old hands 
upon my shoulder, such firm, strong hands, even yet; 
and her eyes smiled humorously up into mine. 

“Ah, lad, I see you are laughing at your old mother. 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


27 

I should have remembered that you are a big man now 
—a major-general, they say! And you are a big man, 
too, in other ways, and not likely to make a mistake in 
the handling of your fate. But a woman is a queer 
thing to deal with, and I thought I had best give you 
a word of warning from a woman’s knowledge of 
women. I believe it was not necessary, though. An¬ 
other fact, too, which reassures me somewhat is that 
they say my lady has become very different since her 
parents’ deaths—particularly after the good old lord 
departed this life. She grieved greatly for him, and 
since then she has scarcely lived here at all, but has 
made her uncle’s home her headquarters during these 
past troublesome years; and I hear she has benefited 
greatly by the influence she has met with there, for Sir 
Reginald Lovet is like his brother, the old lord, a 
generous, open-hearted gentleman, and withal truly re¬ 
ligious and of Puritan principles, and a man of 
stronger nature than the elder brother ever had. It 
may be that you will find her less passionate and self- 
willed now, and therefore more reasonable.” 

“There was certainly room for improvement,” I 
remarked dryly. 

I took up my abode in the tiny house on the common 
that I had bought for my mother several years previ¬ 
ously. She had urged me, in a half-hearted way, to 
take lodgings in the village of Lingfield, which was 
within a mile or two. It would be more suitable, she 
had argued, for me in the exalted position I had at- 


28 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


tained as a major-general. It would not do for me to 
be living in a thatched cottage with an old bedridden 
village woman, who happened to be my mother. 
When I stopped her flow of argument with a kiss and 
gave orders for my valise and trunk to be carried 
up the narrow oak stairs, she leaned back on her pil¬ 
lows with a sigh of extreme content, and I heard no 
more about fine lodgings in the village. 

It thus came about that when my Lady Killigew*’s 
relatives decided they must get into communication 
with me personally they had to find their way out to 
the thatched cottage upon the common in order to do 
so. 

Her cousin, Captain Lovet, was the first to seek an 
interview. He turned out to be a man about my own 
age. 

His object was clearly to feel his way in order to 
find if there was any hope of buying me off. 

He arrived one fine afternoon without any warning. 
I was smoking a contented pipe in the little front 
garden when my visitor rode up. He was a hand¬ 
some, well-set-up man, and held himself haughtily, as 
befitted a younger scion of noble family when treating 
with the son of a blacksmith. 

It had its comic side, and I hope I behaved myself 
properly. I know he was first angry and confident, 
then puzzled and doubtful, and lastly almost humble. 
He began with commendable straightforwardness by 
offering me a round sum there and then if I would 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


29 


withdraw my claim, and, when I did not appear to 
jump at the bribe, he set himself to explain to my 
dull intelligence, with laborious clarity, how untenable 
was my position and how impossible a situation it 
would create if I persisted in it. It was unthinkable 
that the widowed Lady Killigew should wed a person 
of my birth, however creditable to my character and 
endeavors my present military status might be. 

“You see, my dear sir,” he said, with a touch of 
restrained impatience, “although you are a general in 
the army, that does not constitute any social claim 
and cannot do away with your birth. Your friends 
and relations, you can understand, have not risen with 

you-” And he glanced round comprehensively at 

my modest surroundings, his eyes resting for a moment 
upon a fat old sow which grunted inquiringly at us 
through the gate, as she paused in her walk on the 
common. 

I considered the problem thoughtfully. 

“What do you propose, then, sir?” I inquired. 
“Supposing I cast off my relations and have nothing 
further to do with them, would that render me more 
acceptable to her ladyship?” 

He still tried to restrain his growing impatience. 

“By no means. Can you not see for yourself? 
Must I be more explicit? It is you yourself that her 
ladyship objects to. It is your person in particular 
that she would esteem it a gross insult to have thrust 
upon her.” 



30 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“Why so?” I asked stupidly. 

“Why so!” he exclaimed, letting loose his ungovern¬ 
able anger. “You have the stupidity or the imper¬ 
tinence to ask that?—when you know the stock you 
have sprung from, common laborer on the estate that 
you were—when you know the insulting way you be¬ 
haved to Lady Killigew on the occasion of the sur¬ 
prise attack upon her house when you took advantage 
of her helplessness to humiliate her for your own 
amusement!” 

I was interested in this statement. Evidently, then, 
my lady had taken pains to find out who I was, which 
was perhaps only natural, but it pleased me a little, fool 
that I was. Even to be remembered by her was some¬ 
thing. 

I thought it time now to throw off all semblance of 
misunderstanding the situation. 

“Well, Captain Lovet,” I remarked, eying the young 
man gravely and steadily, “I think you have made the 
matter very plain from your point of view. I con¬ 
fess I was under no illusion from the commencement, 
and let me now tell you that it is not for place or 
title or money that I contemplate this marriage. No 
bribe on your part, however alluring, would move me. 
Indeed, the bribe should be the other way, for no man 
could be faced with a less alluring prospect than I, as 
it appears from all you say and from all I know of 
Lady Killigew. My matrimonial path, far from being 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


3 1 

garlanded with roses, is likely to be set with thorns 
and thistles from beginning to end.” 

He stared at me, obviously impressed by my sin¬ 
cerity. 

“Then why, in heaven’s name, persevere in it?” he 
cried, a glimmer of hope adding a, boyish note to his 
voice. 

I returned his eager look gloomily. 

“Because I happen to love the lady.” 

His jaw fell and an expression of incredulous 
amazement spread over his face. 

“That is not possible.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you have never had the opportunity for 
falling in love with her, man,” he retorted sharply. 

“How much opportunity does one require, in your 
opinion, for that?” I asked equably, knocking the 
ashes from my pipe. 

He made no reply, but continued to stare hard at 
me, as though he had not properly seen me before. 

Then he said slowly: 

“Was that the reason you acted in that inexplicable 
way that night of the affray at Rookherst?” 

“Possibly.” 

“You permitted Lord Killigew to escape.” 

“I believe so.” 

“And that was because—because—you—er—loved 
my cousin?” He seemed to find the words difficult. 


32 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


( 


I made no reply. 

“My God!” he exclaimed suddenly. “It is a queer 
mix-up. I had never expected this.” 

“Well,” I asked for the second time, “what do you 
propose, then?” 

He scratched his head with frank perplexity. I 
liked the man—I liked his steady glance, and I liked 
his straightforward bearing. He bore out what my 
mother had heard said of his father, the old Lord 
Lovet’s younger brother, and I could imagine the good 
influence such a home circle would have upon my poor, 
lovable, wayward lady. 

At length he spoke again, and thi's time diffidently, 
almost humbly: 

“There is only one more argument I can bring, sir. 
Because of this love you bear her, will you not with¬ 
draw your claim for her sake?” 

“No—I will not.” My furious words drove the 
startled sow grunting away as fast as her short legs 
would carry her enormous weight. 

Captain Lovet drew in a quick breath, and for a 
second laid his hand upon his sword. Then, letting 
it drop, he said quietly: 

“Very well. I see I have failed entirely. There 
is no more to be said. May I acquaint my cousin 
with what you have told me?” 

“If you think anything can be gained by that, cer¬ 
tainly you may do so,” I replied, and I suppose my 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


33 

voice sounded tired and unhopeful, and must have 
touched him, for he smiled a little and said: 

“I think it may. You mean to deal well with her?” 
he added, a shade of anxiety in his tone. 

“I have told you so. If Lady Killigew is prepared 
to carry through her part of the bargain loyally in 
spirit as well as letter,. I swear to her that there shall 
be nothing lacking in my attitude or actions which 
could help to make some sort of success of a difficult 
undertaking. It will depend upon her, for the most 
part.” 

“Nay, I think not.” He spoke in a low, passionate 
voice which surprised me by its intense earnestness. 
“As far as your future wife is concerned, I 'can an¬ 
swer for her. Whatever she undertakes to do will 
be done with the utmost loyalty and generosity. She 
has consented to sacrifice herself for another, and she 
will do it to the full. If the success of this lamentable 
bargain rested principally upon her, all would be well; 
but it is upon you that the success will rest—upon your 
treatment of her. And, by heaven, if you fail in 
aught toward her, you will not escape unpunished while 
my father and I are alive.” 

I was astonished by this outburst, until the truth 
came to me. This man loved his cousin; and what 
more natural ? He had had plenty of the opportunity 
for falling in love which he deemed indispensable. 

Within a week of this visit I received a letter ask- 


MY LADY'S BARGAIN 


34 

ing me to go down to Hampshire, to visit Sir Reginald 
and Lady Lovet in their home. 

It was a- formally worded but courteous invitation, 
and I accepted it without hesitation, but wondering in 
my mind what it was intended to accomplish. Would 
I, by any chance, meet my Lady Rosamond there? 
Could it be possible that she would add an appeal for 
herself on her own account? A personal appeal such 
as that would be indeed a powerful weapon to use. 
I felt it would be taking an unfair advantage of me; 
but I could hardly visualize my lady humbling her 
proud soul sufficiently to undertake such a step, and 
this thought reassured me somewhat. 

On arriving at Tunhill Park I was met by Captain 
Lovet at the entrance to the beautiful mansion, and 
after a word of greeting, given with a touch of con¬ 
straint on his part, he led me into a spacious hall, where 
I found Sir Reginald and his lady awaiting me. 

Sir Reginald Lovet, although younger than the first 
lord, lately deceased, looked older by many years, for 
his beard and hair were snow-white, accentuating the 
extraordinary keenness of his dark eyes. 

There was an imperiousness in his expression which 
reminded me of my lady, and which made me realize 
that she did not inherit her high spirit only from her 
maternal parent, as I had previously supposed. 

Altogether, Sir Reginald Lovet was an impressive 
personality, far more so than his noble brother had 
ever been. 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


35 

As for the little gray-haired lady at his side, for all 
her silk and satin and point lace she reminded me of 
my own dear mother, wrinkles included. 

Sir Reginald advanced to meet us and gravely ac¬ 
knowledged my salute, for I was in uniform, but he 
di*d not offer to shake hands, nor did the little lady 
give me her hand to kiss, though her glance was kinder 
than her lord’s. 

I realized at once that I was only there on sufferance 
and because necessity bade. 

•Sir Reginald did not waste much time in coming to 
the point—his son must have learned his direct 
methods from him. Having inquired perfunctorily 
after my journey, he gave me a straight glance, say¬ 
ing abruptly: 

“General Williams, with your consent we will re¬ 
tire to the library, being more private for the talk I 
wish to have with you.” 

I bowed in silence and followed him and his lady 
into a small room leading off the hall. Captain Lovet 
did not accompany us. 

Sir Reginald closed the door and, leading his wife 
to a large carved chair by the fireplace, motioned me 
to seat myself also, indicating a chair directly opposite 
the window, where the light would fall full upon my 
face. 

I felt sure the chair had been arranged in that posi¬ 
tion deliberately, it was so conspicuously out of its 
place; and I was faintly amused as I thought of the 


36 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

plotting and planning there must have been before 
my arrival. 

The old baronet took up his position opposite me, 
and fixed his hawk-like eyes upon my face. 

“My son, Captain Lovet, has told us of all that 
passed between you on the occasion of his visit last 
week. You must pardon me, sir, if I cannot suppress 
my amazement at the statement you made to him. It 
seems to be quite incredible that you should be sincere 
in the assertion that you—er—have—er—conceived a 
passion for my widowed niece. I have taken the step 
of asking you to come to see me personally in order 
that we may be able to come to an understanding. 
You, no doubt, feel you can reasonably claim a larger 
sum than Captain Lovet was empowered to offer you, 
and I am prepared to meet your demands to the ut¬ 
most of my ability. I am not perhaps as wealthy a 
man as you may suppose, but as you rightly judge 
my niece is very dear to me, and I have therefore much 
at stake, and must be prepared to pay highly for what 
I ask.” 

I confess this bold directness fairly staggered me. 
I had had the conceit to believe that I had convinced 
Captain Lovet of my sincerity at least; so much had 
I taken this for granted, in fact, that I had not given 
that part of the matter a second thought. 

Yet here was I being frankly suspected of extortion, 
accused of playing at being in love in order to demand 
a higher price. I hastily reconstructed my position 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


37 

in my mind so as to decide what line of action to adopt. 
My irresolution must have been perceptible, for Sir 
Reginald’s piercing eyes flashed triumphantly and his 
fine mouth curled in a faintly derisive smile. Settling 
himself back more firmly in his chair, he awaited my 
reply, with the obvious certainty of what the nature of 
it would be. 

I slowly rose to my feet, and, picking up my helmet 
and gantlets, bowed soberly to the little lady in the 
high-backed chair, and then, turning to Sir Reginald, 
said simply: 

“I think, in that case, sir, you made a mistake in 
sending for me, and I only regret you put yourself and 
Lady Lovet to the trouble of doing so. I will, with 
your permission, return to my home without further 
delay.” 

I flatter myself the fine old man was as much stag¬ 
gered now as I had been a minute before. 

His hands gripped the arms of his chair; leaning 
forward, he ejaculated in a voice trembling with sup¬ 
pressed irritation and chagrin: 

“What do you mean, sir? For heaven’s sake, be 
honest. What do you want?” 

“I do not want your money, anyway, Sir Reginald,” 
I replied, with a depth of anger far greater than his 
own. “I am no extortioner. I can understand that 
your niece is dear to you and that this marriage is most 
repugnant to you for family reasons. I can under¬ 
stand it, I say; I acknowledge you have some cause, 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


38 

perhaps; I will even say good cause, for your objec¬ 
tion. But because I am of a different standing to you, 
a man of low birth—no birth—that is no excuse for 
denying me the possibility of being actuated by pure 
motives. I love Lady Killigew and desire her for 
my wife because I love her, and for no other reason.” 

Sir Reginald rapped out an oath. 

“You have no right to love Lady Killigew,” he ex¬ 
claimed. “It is rank impudence in one of your posi¬ 
tion.” 

“Reginald, my love,” interposed a gentle voice from 
the fireplace, “do you not think you may be a little 
unjust to General Williams, in the heat of your feel¬ 
ings?” 

I was amazed at the effect of these softly-spoken 
words; the old baronet turned a look of almost shame¬ 
faced affection upon the little lady; then, looking again 
at me, he said in an altered tone: 

“Perhaps I am. This affair touches me so deeply 
that I can scarcely answer for myself.” He paused, 
then added with an effort: “I am forced to believe 
what you say, General Williams, and I perceive that 
my son was right in his opinion that it was futile to 
try to move you in your resolve. It seems, therefore, 
that we must bow to the decree of heaven, as it almost 
appears to be.” I was startled at hearing the phrase 
used by my mother repeated by this man. It seemed 
like an omen. Sir Reginald’s next words brought me 
back sharply to realities. 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


39 

“Before I agree to withdraw my opposition to this 
—this sacrifice of my niece, I must hear from your 
own lips that you will treat her with all the reverence 
and consideration you are capable of and which she 
will deserve. Here is a Bible. Swear to me now, 
in the presence of Lady Lovet, that you will do 
this.” 

“It does not appear to me necessary to take an 
oath upon this,” I said coldly. “I have already in¬ 
formed you what my feelings are with regard to Lady 
Killigew; that should be sufficient.” 

His pent-up wrath and bitterness broke out again. 

“Between gentlemen it would be sufficient. But I 
do not know your standards, sir, and frankly misdoubt 
them.” 

It was a deliberate insult, of course, and I know I 
winced and felt my face grow hot. 

“I am afraid I cannot hope to have the opportunity 
of explaining to you the standards of a son of a black¬ 
smith, sir,” I replied quietly, “and I am afraid also 
you will not have the satisfaction of an oath to set 
your mind at rest. I have not the slightest intention 
of swearing upon the matter. But I am prepared to 
give you my word of honor as a—” I paused, while 
his eyes challenged mine,—“as a Puritan officer that 
I will act toward my future wife in as gentlemanly a 
fashion as I am capable of.” 

At the mockery in my tone he flushed and drew him¬ 
self up haughtily, and I fear things would have come 


40 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


to a rupture between us two angry men had not the 
little lady again interposed. 

“There is one little point, General,” she broke in, 
as though nothing was amiss between us. “When you 
are married, we should not like to feel entirely cut off 
from our dear one. I feel sure you will not make any 
objection to your wife paying us a visit periodically.” 

The words were casually spoken and her voice and 
manner quite placid, but I am a cautious man by 
nature, and the simple request roused my misgivings. 
I threw a sharp glance at the delicate smiling face, 
and detected the anxiety in her blue eyes. 

A further glance in the direction of the old baronet, 
to find that he was regarding me eagerly, confirmed my 
suspicions. 

Yet the appeal I read in both faces disturbed me. 
I decided to be quite frank with them. 

“Lady Lovet,” I said slowly, weighing my words 
with care, “there is no need for us to dissimulate when 
alone, as we are now. You know quite as well as 
I that this marriage is going to create a difficult situ¬ 
ation. What the outcome of it will be heaven only 
knows. I do not attempt even to guess. But it must 
be as plain to you as it is to me that even trifles may 
help or hinder what small chance there is of this mar¬ 
riage becoming some sort of a success. It seems to 
me that it would be only fair to allow me to have at 
least one full year in which to do the best I can to win 


MY LADY'S RELATIVES 


4i 


my wife’s confidence and, if possible, reconcile her 
in some small degree to her fate. Any visit to her old 
surroundings must undoubtedly hinder this by reviv¬ 
ing past memories. I ask you to give me this year 
of grace undisturbed. On the other hand, I promise 
you that should my future wife declare her wish to go 
on a visit to you before the year is out I will not lift 
a finger to prevent her doing so, but I shall trust to 
your honor as a gentleman, Sir Reginald,” I laid a 
faint stress upon the word, and I saw him wince this 
time, “not by word or deed to encourage her to ex¬ 
tend her visit to greater than ordinary length. I shall 
be glad if you will let Lady Killigew know of this 
request on my part, so that she may be fully cognizant 
of my wishes beforehand.” 

There was a moment’s silence in the room; then Sir 
Reginald spoke gravely and with an effort. 

“General Williams, it appears plain to me that I 
have misjudged you. I apologize for my hasty words. 
You must realize that your future wife is very, very 
dear to us. My niece, since the death of both her 
parents, has resided the greater part of her time here 
with us and has become as a daughter to us. This 
must be my excuse for the attitude I have taken up. 
Also,” and there was severity in his glance, “I still 
maintain that it was an impropriety on your part to 
conceive this feeling for Lady Killigew, but I think 
I did not sufficiently take into consideration certain 


42 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


qualities of character which I recognize now you pos¬ 
sess. I sincerely trust you will bear no ill-will toward 
me for the hard things I have said.” 

It must have required a noble effort on the part of 
this haughty old baronet to bring himself to utter this 
apology. I think there was mutual respect in the 
glance we exchanged as I responded frankly enough: 

“I bear you no ill-will whatsoever, sir.” 

The soft voice from the fireplace again broke in: 

“Let me, for my part, say that we fully understand 
your attitude regarding the matter of our dear child 
visiting us, and thank you for your frankness. I will 
inform her of what you have said, and I feel sure she 
will respect your wishes.” 

I smiled slightly as I thought of my wilful, im¬ 
perious lady. 

“I do not know as to that,” I said, a trifle grimly. 
“I cannot conceive of my future wife waiting for my 
permission if she desired to leave me.” 

I thought Lady Lovet looked at me curiously. 

“You may think so,” she said slowly, “but I do not 
fancy you have any real knowledge of your future 
wife. I imagine you only judge her by a few isolated 
occurrences, or perhaps by hearsay. She has devel¬ 
oped greatly of late. She has always had a high sense 
of duty, and I believe, if she marries you, she will be a 
faithful wife to you and prepared to do all that is in 
her power to help make the marriage a success.” 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


43 


These words conjured up such a vision of happiness 
that my head swam. If this prophecy could really be¬ 
come true, what contentment lay ahead of me! 

Something of this new-born hope and eagerness 
must have shown itself in my face as I asked, with 
a touch of diffidence: 

“Is there any possibility of my seeing Lady Killi- 
gew? Is she here?” 

The little lady looked at me kindly, and actually 
smiled. 

“Nay, I fear that is not possible.” 

I recognized the gentle repulse, but I could not re¬ 
sent it, realizing it was meant kindly. 

Within a week I must, in my case, meet my lady, 
for we were to be married before that period was 
passed. My momentary reverie was interrupted by 
Sir Reginald rising to his feet and remarking: 

“I will conduct General Williams to his room, Let- 
tice. Is your valise already here, sir?” 

I held the door open for Lady Lovet before reply¬ 
ing quietly: 

“No; I left my luggage at the inn, Sir Reginald. 
I deeply appreciated your courtesy in inviting me, in 
your letter, to spend the night with you, but I feel 
in the circumstances this would be trespassing too far 
upon your chivalrous kindness. If you will excuse me, 
I will return to the tavern for the night, as I leave 
early to-morrow.” 


44 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


The old man gave me a steady look. 

“No, sir,” he said Shortly. “You are mistaken. I 
shall be disappointed if you do not stay here.” 

His wife must have paused outside to listen to this 
conversation, because her pretty silvery voice now* 
sounded from the hall: 

“You must let us send for your bag, General; in¬ 
deed you must. It is because we feel we are going 
to like you that you must stay.” 

I confess I blushed like a boy at the gentle archness 
of her tone. I could well understand why Sir Reg¬ 
inald had fallen in love and continued so much in love 
with this merry, youthful spirit, undimmed by the 
wrinkles and gray hairs. 

The apartment assigned to me was a beautiful room, 
and I found myself treated with all the attention ac¬ 
corded to an honored guest. 

Moreover, the dinner that evening was not the ordeal 
I had prepared for. My hosts avoided entirely all 
dangerous ground, and purposely led me on to talk 
of my military experiences and other topics both safe 
and of mutual interest. 

It seemed as though they deliberately set themselves 
to draw me out, and several times I found all three 
pairs of eyes fixed scrutinizingly upon my face while 
I was talking, a fact which might have embarrassed 
me, but for the curious feeling I had that these people, 
far from criticizing me, were eager to find all the 
good they could in me. Such a conviction tends to re- 


MY LADY’S RELATIVES 


45 

assure a man rather than take away his confidence. 

I left early the next morning, Sir Reginald and his 
lady both rising to bid me good-by. 

As I bowed low over Lady Lovet’s delicate fingers 
the little lady murmured softly: 

“Good-by, General Williams. I am glad you came, 
for now I believe our dear one will be in the care of 
an honest man.” 

Sir Reginald, for his part, made no movement to 
shake hands, though his glance was not unfriendly as 
he bowed in response to my salute. Neither did Cap¬ 
tain Lovet and I touch hands. Evidently the two men 
were not prepared to go to the length Lady Lovet had 
gone in receiving me into their confidence. 

Nevertheless, as I prepared to mount, my foot in 
the stirrup, standing in the sunshine upon the gravel 
sweep fronting the house, I glanced back at the group 
in the entrance, and felt that I would like above most 
things to be acceptable to these people. I craved their 
liking and approval, and desired keenly to be admitted 
into their family circle. I had lived a lonely, ardu¬ 
ous life since the age of seventeen, and I realized that 
I thirsted for love and family ties. 


CHAPTER III 


JOB FORSTER 

M Y wedding day dawned promising fair, but 
it was with very mixed feelings that I rode 
up to Rookherst that Friday, at one o’clock, 
accompanied by six of my fellow-officers and special 
friends, among whom was my former captain, now 
Colonel Forbes. 

That discreet person never by word or glance be¬ 
trayed the fact that he recollected any unusual mid¬ 
night episode connected with the fair owner of Rook¬ 
herst and myself. 

One would have imagined it was his first visit to 
the place, and I was secretly amused by his discre¬ 
tion. 

We were met at the main entrance by the steward, 
Masterman, who ushered us with all due deference 
into the large hall. 

Here we found Justice Eldon awaiting us, with his 
clerk and two notaries to deal with the legal transfer 
of the property; for in accordance with the law then 
in operation it only required a justice of the peace to 
perform all that was necessary to marry us, the church 

46 


JOB FORSTER 47 

ceremony having been done away with with the prayer- 
book. 

We stood grouped carelessly in the great recess 
formed by the window, and I noticed how the red and 
blue reflection from the painted glass lay upon the pol¬ 
ished floor over which my lady must walk when she 
entered. 

It seemed a long interval before she arrived, but 
when she did come into the hall, leaning upon her 
uncle’s arm, I started as though I had not been expect¬ 
ing her. 

My fellow-officers and I naturally stood with our 
backs to the light, facing my lady as she entered, and 
we must have looked much alike in our red tunics and 
metal breastplates, with scarlet sashes across our chests, 
and swords fastened to our sides. 

The moment she entered the hall, my lady raised 
her eyes and flashed a scrutinizing glance at us. I 
could catch the blueness of her eyes even at that dis¬ 
tance, and I thought I read doubt and uncertainty in 
her expression. It must be remembered that she had 
only seen me On that midnight occasion in the dim 
candle-light, about seven years before; small wonder 
if she failed to pick me out at once. 

With an egotistical desire to discover whether my 
features had impressed themselves upon her memory 
sufficiently for her to detect me of her own accord, I 
remained motionless and apparently as impassive as 
my companions. 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


48 

I saw her glance travel for a second time over our 
faces as she approached slowly across the intervening 
space; then her eyes met mine and rested there for the 
fraction of a minute before she lowered her lashes, and 
the delicate coldr swept over her face—she had recog¬ 
nized me. 

The actual ceremony which made us man and wife 
did not, I suppose, occupy more than ten minutes, even 
including the affixing of the signatures of the witnesses 
to the marriage papers. 

It was the most unreal experience I have ever been 
through. 

The justice of the peace, holding the directory in his 
hand, inquired whether we desired to marry one an¬ 
other, and, upon my lady and I each replying in the 
affirmative, he forthwith declared us to be man and 
wife, his clerk producing the parchment to be signed 
and sealed. 

After this had been duly done, the notaries came 
forward with the deeds concerning the property, and 
the necessary signatures were put also to these, where¬ 
by the residence named Rookherst Place and the lands 
appertaining to it were duly transferred by the Lady 
Rosamond to her husband, Peter Williams. 

The steward thereupon served sack all round, and 
our healths were solemnly drunk by the company; 
after which the wedding guests took their leave. No 
inducement could prevail upon Sir Reginald and his 
son—Lady Lovet had not accompanied them—to re- 


49 


JOB FORSTER 

main at Rookherst for the night, and my own personal 
friends were busy men, and were obliged to return to 
duty, having already had their midday meal with me at 
the tavern at Lingfield. When the last of them had 
bidden me good-by and wished me God’s blessing, and 
I had seen the hindermost horseman out of sight, I 
returned slowly and with beating heart to the great 
hall. 

I found my lady still there, awaiting me in the re¬ 
cess of the window, but I had scarcely taken a few 
steps across the floor before the steward, Masterman, 
entered behind me, and upon my turning round in re¬ 
sponse to an apologetic cough the fellow handed me a 
great bunch of keys. I took them from him with an 
inquiring word. 

“The keys of the principal doors of Rookherst, sir,” 
he explained respectfully, with his eyes obstinately 
fixed upon the floor; but I noticed his face was un¬ 
naturally white, and the hand which held the keys 
trembled. 

So I was now master of Rookherst, and of all ap¬ 
pertaining to it, including its former mistress. 

It was a strange prank of fortune indeed. I held 
the keys in my hand and weighed them carelessly, 
while I thought. Then, handing them back to the 
man, I said pleasantly: 

“Well, Masterman, you have been a good guardian 
of them all these years. I hope you will live to guard 
them equally well for as many more.” 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


50 

The fellow jerked his head up in evident astonish¬ 
ment. It was clear that he had been fully prepared to 
be given his notice of dismissal. 

Our eyes met as man to man, and I continued, with¬ 
out altering my tone: 

“As to the rest of the servants, I shall prefer to 
make no alterations beyond empowering you to dis¬ 
miss any that you have reason to be dissatisfied with, 
after informing me of that reason. Any servant, man 
or woman, who has served my lady faithfully I shall 
be glad to retain and raise their wages in proportion 
to the number of their years of service.” 

Masterman bowed gravely and left the hall in si¬ 
lence, bearing the keys with him. The silence in the 
great room was broken by a voice from the window, 
and at the little note of mockery in it I with difficulty 
repressed a start. 

“You are a bold man, sir, in the circumstances, to 
surround yourself with devoted servants of the family 
who from the loftiest to the meanest feel this marriage 
a personal affront. Will you employ a wine-taster and 
wear a steel corselet beneath your doublet?” 

I approached her deliberately, my eyes fixed steadily 
upon hers. 

Her glance had never before met mine with any 
other expression save that of anger or indifference, 
and it came as a physical shock now to read both 
curiosity and mockery in those astonishingly blue eyes. 

“Madam,” I said gravely, “I am perfectly secure, 


5i 


JOB FORSTER 

for you will be both my wine-taster and my corselet.’’ 

She drew herself up with a little haughty move¬ 
ment. 

“How so?” 

“Because, madam, in so far as you are loyal to your 
bargain and fair to me, so far will your servants 
imitate you, and I have sufficient faith to believe you 
will be this.” 

The mocking light died out of her eyes, and she 
gave me a curiously intent look, but made no reply 
to my words. Instead, she remarked inconsequen¬ 
tially : 

“Would you care to see over the house and grounds? 
I do not fancy you are as yet fully acquainted with 
them.” 

Her manner was perfectly easy and frank, and I 
recognized with a throb of relief that if she dealt in 
this direct manner with the situation the difficulties 
with which it literally bristled might be overcome, if 
not smoothed away entirely. 

“I shall be glad if you will show me the place,” I 
replied. “I hardly know the interior of the house at 
all. The outer boundaries, the grounds, of course, 
I am familiar with from childhood.” 

She hesitated a second, glancing doubtfully up the 
staircase. 

“Shall we begin with the rooms upstairs, and gradu¬ 
ally work downward, and then go outside?” she asked 
in a most practical voice. 


52 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


I acquiesced, and she thereupon led the way up the 
wide oak stairs. 

Half-way up there was a bend, and a small landing 
before the staircase continued to the right. At this 
bend she paused. 

“You will notice that this wing of the house is 
entirely separate from the rest,” she explained. 

I carefully avoided catching her eye, for her remark 
vividly recalled the events of that night seven years 
before,.when this fact had put her and her husband at 
my mercy. 

She then preceded me up the remaining flight of 
stairs, pausing at a door immediately on the right. 

I divined this must lead into the room with the 
little window into the hall, the room she had been oc¬ 
cupying on that fateful night. 

Without any hesitation she opened the door and en¬ 
tered, walking straight across to the large window 
opposite. 

“This is my room,” she remarked calmly. “There 
is a magnificent view from this window, if you will 
come here to look at it.” 

I obeyed, casting a curious glance round the apart¬ 
ment as I did so. It was obviously a woman’s room. 

To the left, opposite the little window in the interior 
wall, was a door—no doubt connecting with the room 
formerly occupied by her deceased husband. The 
view was indeed magnificent, for Rookherst stood 
high, and, beyond the perfectly kept garden immedi- 


JOB FORSTER 53 

ately surrounding the house, the country lay rich in 
corn-field and hay-meadow and undulating pasture- 
land, until it lost its outlines in the misty blue hills of 
the distance. 

After a moment’s pause, during which we stood side 
by side, gazing at the scene, and I was conscious of 
her nearness to me, my lady turned and, retracing her 
steps, laid her hand casually upon the latch of the door 
connecting the rooms. 

It was locked. 

<,( We will go round by the other door,” she remarked 
coolly enough, but with a hint of vexed constraint in 
her tone. 

“All these rooms face south* as you see,” she con¬ 
tinued conversationally, throwing open the door lead¬ 
ing from the gallery and revealing a similar room to 
the one we had just left, if a trifle more austere in 
its embellishments. My attention was immediately at¬ 
tracted to a fine piece of tapestry covering half of the 
wall and completely concealing the connecting door. 
I glanced at my lady, and saw that a frown ruffled her 
fair brow, but she continued speaking calmly: 

“The smaller rooms on the left of the gallery are 
used as a rule by the personal servants, such as my 
maid and your valet; and there is another large bed¬ 
room at the end.” 

She then conducted me down the stairs again and 
across the hall to the other wing, where were the guest¬ 
rooms, servants’ rooms, and kitchen premises, 


54 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


We did not spend time here, at which I was glad, 
for there were too many curious eyes, peeping at us 
surreptitiously, for my comfort, though my lady 
showed entire unconcern. She might have been show¬ 
ing the mansion to a prospective purchaser rather than 
to the husband just forced upon her. 

Presently she led the way out of doors. From 
the main entrance we passed along a paved footway 
bordered by a small lawn on either side, to the bridge 
over the moat; beyond this, on the left, stood the 
stables and outhouses; immediately in front stretched 
the gardens; and to the right lay a small lake fringed 
with high bulrushes, and its banks sown with iris and 
foxglove. 

With a continuance of that same matter-of-fact 
composure, my lady led me through the rose-garden, 
the herb and fruit garden, the sunken garden after the 
Dutch style. She pointed out some exquisitely blue- 
tiled swimming-baths and explained that Lord Lovet 
had laid great stress upon his children learning the 
art, and had had a special instructor to tea'ch them. 
But she did not draw my attention to an out-of-door 
theater cleverly built of grass banks, the dressing- 
rooms and wings formed by hedges of clipped yew 
hedges. As a strait-laced Puritan, I suppose she 
imagined I would disapprove of all such frivolity, for 
she passed it by without comment, and I marveled at 
the gracious tact which showed itself even in this little 
detail f 


55 


JOB FORSTER 

We were approaching the stables from the back, 
when a red-faced stable-boy ran out towards us. 
He appeared to be laboring under some extreme 
excitement, judging by his flushed cheeks and di¬ 
lated eyes, and the fact that he could scarcely 
speak. 

I caught the words “big dog” and “dead,” and in 
an instant my mind sprang to the truth. 

I had left my faithful hound, Don, fastened up in 
the stables while I repaired to the house to be wedded, 
and now it was evident some ill-fate had befallen the 
good beast. 

Turning quickly to my lady, I said: “I fear it 
concerns my dog. With your permission, I will go 
with this boy to see what has happened.” 

“I will come too,” she exclaimed. “Surely no harm 
could have come to the dog.” There was acute anx¬ 
iety in her voice, which caught my attention, even in 
the midst of my perturbed thoughts. 

We entered the stable-yard through a side door, and 
the scene which confronted us confirmed my worst 
fears. 

In the midst of a group of stable-men and boys lay 
my dear old Don, his legs drawn up in agony and his 
head thrust out in the stiffness of an approaching 
death-struggle. 

I was kneeling beside him in a moment, and at the 
sound of my voice he tried to turn his head and even 
feebly wagged his tail. There was no sign of any 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


56 

wound upon him. I had no doubt in my mind but 
that he had been poisoned. 

I glanced sharply round—a water-bowl lay near, 
and I noticed, to my relief, that it was still three parts 
full. If the poison had been administered in his water 
there might still be a chance of saving him; but there 
was no time to be lost in doctoring him. 

As if in answer to my unspoken thought, I heard 
my lady’s voice at my elbow. 

“Will you not have him carried up to the house? 
There may be hope of saving him, and there are many 
medicines and valuable herbs at hand there which you 
could apply.” 

Two stalwart men bore the dog to the house and laid 
him down by the entrance. In the meantime my lady 
and I had hurried on in advance, and I had concocted 
a simple emetic which had its desired effect. I then 
dosed the poor beast with brandy and massaged him 
well, and to my joy soon saw that the evil was con¬ 
quered and that he would recover. My lady had hov¬ 
ered round us like a ministering angel all the time, and 
when I at length rose to my feet she met my eyes with 
tears in her own. 

“You think he will recover?” she asked. 

“I am sure of it,” I replied. 

“He must not go back to the stables,” she said em¬ 
phatically. “Let him be brought into the ’hall and a 
mat laid for him, so that he can be under your eye, 
in case he relapses.” 


JOB FORSTER 57 

I was more moved than I dared show by her 
thoughtfulness. 

“It is very good of you, madam, to show this con¬ 
sideration for the poor beast,” I said quietly, “particu¬ 
larly as he is of no breed whatsoever, a mere low-class 
mongrel.” 

There could be no doubt that she caught my allusion, 
for she flushed faintly, though her tone was quite 
impersonal as she replied: 

“He has a faithful heart, which shows in his eyes.” 

Later on that evening, when alone in my room, I 
took a mirror and stared long and closely into my own 
eyes. Was there anything in them to show that I, 
like Don, had a faithful heart? I shook my head 
doubtfully, for all I saw was a pair of blue-gray eyes 
set rather far apart in a tanned face beneath a square 
forehead. No, Don was far superior to his master 
in the matter of expressive orbs. 

I must mention before this, however, that Master- 
man had come to inquire of me which room I would 
prefer to occupy. 

“I have put your valise in this room, sir,” he had 
said in his expressionless voice, opening the door of 
the room next to my lady’s; “but if you prefer the 
larger room at the end of the passage I will have your 
things moved there.” 

“Thanks,” I replied quietly, “this will do very well. 
My man, I believe, will sleep opposite.” 

On reentering the room I observed instantly that 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


’58 

the tapestry had been removed and the door stood re¬ 
vealed, and in the lock upon my side was the key. 

I changed my -uniform for black silk doublet and 
trunks, trimmed with silver lace, and descended again 
to the large hall, about half an hour before the hour 
fixed for supper, as I was anxious to see how Don 
was faring. 

I found him sleeping profoundly, and marveled at 
the extraordinary recuperative powers animals have. 

While I stood watching him with a smile, I heard 
a light tread upon the stairs and the soft sound of a 
woman’s gown, and there was my lady turning the 
bend and gazing down at me. 

I was surprised and delighted that she should be 
coming down so early, and with my pulses throbbing 
I watched her descend the remaining steps. How 
beautiful she was, and how perfectly the rich shadowy 
black velvet showed up her dazzling skin and wonder¬ 
ful eyes and hair. 

My lady was a queen among women. If she was 
put out and displeased to see me already there, she 
did not show it, but came straight up to me, and for 
a moment stood beside me, looking down at the sleep¬ 
ing dog in silence. Then she moved away a few steps 
before turning to me and saying abruptly: 

“We must not disturb him with our voices, but I 
want to have a word with you, and it please you, sir.” 

Gladly I followed her to the window recess. 

“I am more distressed than I can say by what has 


59 


JOB FORSTER 

occurred,’’ she began, with that curious directness I 
had already learned to associate with her and her rela¬ 
tives. “The occurrence has shocked and astounded 
me. I cannot understand how any one could have 
done such a dastardly thing.” 

I looked at her curiously. 

“But I understood you to have warned me of the 
risk of just such an occurrence, madam, only of a more 
personal nature,” I remarked. 

She flashed a glance at me, and in its imperious 
anger I recalled my lady of old. 

“You must have known I did not intend those words 
to be taken seriously. I spoke in mockery. None of 
my servants would lift a hand against you, for they 
know my honor would be involved if aught of harm 
befell you under this roof.” 

I shrugged my shoulders. 

“I should have thought it an easy way out of a 
difficulty,” I said carelessly. 

“Then your standards must be different from mine, 
sir,” she retorted; but even as the words crossed her 
lips I think she regretted them, for as our eyes met 
she flushed scarlet. Moving abruptly to the table, she 
rang a silver bell. 

In response to the summons, a footman entered the 

hall. 

“Light the candles, Forster,” commanded my lady. 

At the name I glanced at the man, and, although it 
was many years singe I had seen him before, I recog- 


6 o 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


nized him immediately. I watched him moving from 
sconce to sconce, lighting the long wax candles, and 
my thoughts traveled back to the early days of our boy¬ 
hood’s rivalry, for Job Forster had grown up with 
me, and ever since I could remember we had quarreled 
and fought, from our first great fisticuff, as little more 
than toddlers, over a giant horse-chestnut that had fal¬ 
len between us and which I had been quickest to pick 
up. I kept that mighty chestnut for many seasons, 
and it remained conqueror in spite of hard batterings, 
until I destroyed it myself to save it the indignity of 
defeat in its hoary age. 

Years, and the reason which years are supposed to 
bring, did not improve our relations, and t*he climax 
arrived when Job asked Matilda to marry him, and 
she refused him. 

I recalled the day he came to me with a face whitened 
by passion and accused me of playing fast and loose 
with my cousin, and so bewitching her that she had no 
eyes for an honest man. He accused me of more, 
for which I struck him on the mouth, and we then and 
there had the greatest fight we had ever had. We 
were both big, heavy lads, but I was not blinded by 
the same insane rage as he, and I left him on the 
ground, sobbing for breath. 

All these scenes came back to my memory as I 
watched Job Forster light the candles. I had not 
heard that he was in service at Rookherst, and won- 


61 


JOB FORSTER 

dered why my mother had omitted to tell me; perhaps 
she had forgotten, in the preoccupation of other more 
exciting events. 

There was another, newer thought in my mind also, 
as I watched Job Forster light the candles, and I con¬ 
fess I was startled when my lady, immediately upon 
his leaving the hall, put me an abrupt question: 

“Do you think you have any personal enemy here, 
'General Williams? Any one who would have poi¬ 
soned your dog out of spite?” 

Spite was not the feeling I should have applied to 
Job. His sentiment toward me as a lad had been 
hatred pure and simple. There was, I believe, noth¬ 
ing petty about it; if he could have killed me, by fair 
means or foul, he would have done so in those days; 
of that I felt no doubt. But that was many years 
ago; the edge of my own anger and dislike had been 
so entirely blunted since then that I could not conceive 
of his not being so, too. I am a cautious man, how¬ 
ever, and in my mind I argued that Job was not a type 
to be satisfied with half-measures; if he still thirsted 
for vengeance, he would not stop at poisoning my dog. 

I would not tell my lady of my doubts, however, and 
I replied, with as naturally assumed surprise as I could 
manage: 

“What makes you ask this ?” 

“Because,” she retorted impatiently, “as I have said 
before, none of my servants would do you harm.” 


62 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“In that case it must have been done by some one 
from outside, unless it was only an accident, which is 
quite possible,” I replied. 

“I mean, none of my servants would harm you from 
any foolish, mistaken idea of loyalty to the family,” 
she explained. “Another motive must be found for 
such an act.” 

“I see. I will bear that in mind,” I replied thought¬ 
fully. 

She regarded me in silence for a few seconds, with 
knitted brows. 

“Why will you not admit that you have known that 
man Forster before?” she asked suddenly. 

I hid my astonishment. 

“Why should I either admit or deny it?” I inquired. 
“I have known the steward, Masterman, before, and 
my cousin Matilda, the still-room maid. The major¬ 
ity of the servants here are familiar to me at least by 
face.” 

“You know that I mean more than that. This man 
Forster is an old enemy of yours, and there can be no 
doubt but that he is the one who poisoned your dog. 
He was seen to cross to the stables this afternoon.” 

I did not attempt to hide my surprise now. 

“How did you find out all this, madam?” I asked, 
eying her keenly. 

“It was my duty to do all I could to trace the cul¬ 
prit,” she replied, with a note of triumph in her tone. 
“I talked the matter over with Masterman, and we 


JOB FORSTER 63 

went through the names and histories of the servants. 
Acting upon a hint from him, I sent for your cousin 
Matilda, and she gave me all the information I needed.” 

I confess I flushed a little. My peculiar position 
was thrown into strong relief by the fact that my wife 
had to gain her information of my past through the 
medium of one of her maids, who happened to be my 
cousin. 

“Well,” I asked, after a moment’s thought, “what if 
this man be the culprit ? How will you prove it ? He 
cannot be dismissed on that score without proof.” 

“That is true,” she said slowly, “and proof is diffi¬ 
cult to obtain, as no one saw him actually in the stable- 
yard. But, being foiled, it is probable he may try 
again, and we cannot run risks. He may go further 
next time.” She looked at me oddly. “Will you per¬ 
mit me to make an experiment to-night, to test him?” 

“By all means. What part do you wish me to 
play?” 

“Will you refrain from tasting your wine until I 
have taken the step I contemplate, and will you pretend 
there is a wager between us?” 

I stared at her, and she met my glance steadily. 

At that moment Masterman announced that supper 
was served. Without a word I offered my lady my 
arm, and she took it. 

Never in my wildest dreams had I believed it pos¬ 
sible that she would deal so kindly with me. 

Supper was served in the very room where I had 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


64 

forced her to-kiss me, on that night seven years before. 
I grew hot all over at the recollection and groaned in¬ 
wardly as I thought of my brutality on that occasion. 
The wonder was that she could ever forgive me, and 
here she was now planning to save me from harm. 

The head steward served us himself, with the as¬ 
sistance of Forster, the footman, but I noticed it was 
Forster who carried round the wine and filled our 
glasses. 

In obedience to my lady’s wishes I did not touch 
mine during the meal. 

After the last course, my lady suddenly rose to her 
feet and, leaning forward, quietly took my filled glass 
from before me, replacing it with her own. 

“I constitute myself your wine-taster, in accordance 
with my wager,” she said in her clear, bell-like voice. 
“Let me drink to your health, sir.” 

Steadily she raised the glass to her lips, her eyes 
upon mine, but, reflected in the mirror behind her, I 
saw Masterman suddenly grip Forster by the shoulder. 

“See, my lady, he is as white as a ghost and trem¬ 
bling in every limb; there is no need to seek further 
proof,” the steward exclaimed. 

Indeed, my old enemy looked a sorry figure, with 
perspiration standing out in small beads upon his ashen 
face. 

My lady put down the glass and eyed him sternly. 

“Do you mean me to believe that this wine is 
poisoned?—that there is any servant of this house- 


JOB FORSTER 65 

hold wicked and cowardly enough not only to attempt 
the death of an innocent animal, but to plan murder 
beneath the roof that shelters him? ,, 

I could see that Job Forster strove to quiet his trem¬ 
bling muscles and recover his composure, but unluckily 
his eyes fell upon me at that moment and an expression 
of insane fury swept over his face. 

‘‘I will not deny it, my Lady,” he cried hoarsely. 
“I did hope to kill that man, and so rid you, and another 
luckless woman, of his evil influence. He is no fit 
mate for your Ladyship. He has wronged one 
woman; he will—” 

My lady stopped his furious words with a sharp 
command: 

“Be silent! How dare you!” 

He eyed her sullenly, but continued: 

“I speak what I know. That man, years ago, played 
with a woman, and threw her over when he tired of 
her. I loved that woman.” 

Here was a pretty kettle of fish! 

I was frankly dumfounded at the turn of events. 
This was confusion worse confounded, with a ven¬ 
geance ! 

Before I could decide upon any course of action, 
however, I heard my lady say calmly: 

“You lie, Forster, whether you know it or not, and 
in your madness you are besmirching the character of 
the good woman you profess to love. I have spoken 
with Matilda Sefton, and know the unhappy story of 


66 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


your unrequited passion. Until your master, General 
Williams, decides what shall be your fate, you shall be 
placed in the guard-room. Masterman, please see this 
man is kept in close custody. Ring the bell for a 
couple of lackeys to take him in charge. And, Master- 
man, will you make it known in the servants’ hall that 
from this time onward I shall, as the humor seizes me, 
take it upon me to taste the wine and food supplied to 
my husband.” 

When my lady and I were alone in the great hall, 
where we had repaired after supper, I turned to her, my 
heart in my eyes, I fancy. 

“I owe you both my life and my honor,” I said 
gravely. “You saved my life—for that I owe you 
much; but you refused to believe the accusation against 
me, and for that I am a thousand times more grate¬ 
ful.” 

She flushed a little and drew away from me. 

“The tale was already discredited by the facts I had 
learned previously,” she said quietly. 

I blessed my faithful cousin Matilda in my heart. 
Aloud I said: 

“There is also something else I would like to say. I 
noticed, madam, an alteration in the room I am occupy¬ 
ing—the room next to yours.” 

I saw her eyes flicker and waver before mine, but I 
held their gaze, exerting my will over hers. 

“The tapestry over the communicating door had 


JOB FORSTER 67 

been removed, madam,” I continued deliberately, “and 
the key was in the lock. I take it that this was done 
by your orders, and I believe it to mean that you are 
prepared to fulfil your bargain to the full and raise no 
barrier between us?” 

She was white to the lips, but she met my eyes stead¬ 
ily now. 

“I am prepared to fulfil my bargain in as far as it is 
in my power to do so, sir, and raise no barriers in ad¬ 
dition to those already there,” she replied; and there 
was cold dislike in her tone and glance. 

I nodded. 

“Then, madam, I return you the key, for it is not my 
intention to exact that bargain to the utmost. Keep 
your door locked or not, as you please, but remember 
that one word from you will always be a greater bar¬ 
rier to me than all the locks and bolts you can protect 
yourself with.” 

She stared at me with dawning wonder in her face, 
and I continued with the same deliberation, hiding the 
tumult in my heart: 

“It seems to me that this first night of our wedded 
life should be a fit occasion for expressing myself 
clearly and so unmistakably that there will be no need 
for repetition. Listen, my Lady. I intend to woo you 
and win you for myself. You start, I see, and your 
expression is incredulous. That is because you do not 
know me. I have not loved you for twenty years to be 


68 


MY LADY'S BARGAIN 


balked in the end. I went through this marriage cere¬ 
mony in order to give myself the opportunity, which 
it would have been almost impossible for me otherwise 
to have had, of courting you and winning your love. 
Madness, no doubt, you think it. Maybe it is; time 
will prove this. You need not shrink from me in fear, 
my Lady. You will suffer no unwelcome attentions, 
or violent force, from me, such as, I regret, occurred 
on that night seven years ago. I swore on that night 
that never again would a woman’s lips touch mine 
against her will. 

“I do not fancy I will ever lay bare my soul to you 
again after to-night, until the hour comes when I know 
you are mine. But, for to-night, let me tell you that I 
hunger and thirst for your love as a man in a desert 
might hunger and thirst. Again and again during 
these past years I have tried to tear your image from 
my heart, and take to me a wife of my own class, who 
would be a loyal mate and give me the warm affection 
which makes a home. But it was a futile effort. I 
found I must bear with loneliness and homelessness, 
for I could not loyally take to me any wife but one." 

I paused, and she drew in a quick breath. 

“I cannot understand it," she said, looking at me 
curiously and speaking in a constrained voice. “It 
seems to me incredible that you should have come thus 
to care for one who gave you no encouragement—who, 
indeed as far as I can recall, treated you with scorn and 
contempt on the few occasions you came in contact 


JOB FORSTER 69 

with her, and even struck you when you happened to 
offend her.” 

I set my lips grimly. 

“It is a fact, nevertheless, strange though it may be.” 

•She studied my face thoughtfully for a few seconds. 

“But what sort of—of—love can it be,” she asked, 
“that is based upon such inadequate knowledge?” 

Her question rather took me aback, and she saw her 
advantage and pursued it triumphantly. 

“It appears to me to be merely a blind infatuation 
for a romantic creation of your own brain, rather than 
passion for a real person.” 

“Possibly,” I replied coolly. “But now I have the 
Real Person.” 

She started, and it seemed to me there was awe al¬ 
most approaching fear in her expression as she stared 
at me. 

“I do not understand what sort of a man you are,” 
she muttered doubtfully, “but I fear you are bound to 
be disappointed. It would have been comparatively 
simple had you sought the attainable, but as things are 
it is quite beyond my power ever to give you what you 
crave.” 

“That time will prove, madam. I am a patient 
man.” 

She shook her head. 

“Time and patience have nothing to do with it, sir, 
as you will find to your disillusionment,” she retorted 
with emphasis. “And I warn you now, since we ap- 


70 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


pear determined to speak plainly, that, although I am 
prepared to act up to my bargain in as far as it is in my 
power to do so, there are certain limits beyond which 
I cannot go, certain bounds beyond which you may not 
step. There will always be locked doors between us, 
sir, invisible doors which you will never have the right 
or the power to enter, and which, for your own com¬ 
fort of mind, I advise you never to seek to pry into. I 
begin my life with you from now on a clear page. 
Write what you will upon it, sir, and I will make no 
complaint, for I have counted the cost; but do not pre¬ 
sume to think you may turn over and peruse what was 
written before. That I have the right to withhold 
from you.” 

“I have your permission to make love to you, I sup¬ 
pose?” 

She flushed and frowned. Then, reading the irony 
in my expression, her lips twitched with what was ob¬ 
viously a hysterical desire to laugh. 

“It is like a horrible farce,” she exclaimed. “I do 
not know whether to laugh or cry, to take you seriously 
and feel outraged, or to believe you are mocking me, 
and to be insulted.” 

“I am afraid it is too late in the evening for me to 
try and clear up the problem, madam,” I replied coolly. 
“Possibly a night’s rest may help you. You must be 
tired after such an eventful day, and so I will not de¬ 
tain you further, but light you to your room,” 


7 i 


JOB FORSTER 

I lighted a candle for her and accompanied her up 
the stairs, at the head of which her maid awaited her. 
Then our eyes met once more as, with a deferential 
bow, I bade her good night. 


CHAPTER IV 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 

I HAD been granted two months’ leave of absence 
from duty. Two weeks of this I had already 
spent with my mother; the remaining six I in¬ 
tended devoting entirely to the wooing of my wife. 
The end of the first week of these six weeks found me 
a baffled and bewildered man. 

My lady had evidently, from the beginning, mapped 
out for herself a definite course of conduct, and had 
she adhered to it consistently I might have had some 
chance of understanding her, but, womanlike, I sup¬ 
pose, she found this impossible; hence my bewilder¬ 
ment. 

By tacit understanding we met one another on the 
morning following our wedding as though no frank 
conversation had taken place between us. She had re¬ 
sumed her previous pleasant, courteous manner and at¬ 
titude of well-trained hostess toward an honored guest. 
Her morning greeting was the perfection of self- 
possession and good breeding. The little smile with 
which her words were accompanied was quite friendly 

and also quite impersonal, and her blue eyes rested 

72 



DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 


73 

calmly upon mine without a trace of self conscious¬ 
ness and with an equal absence of self-revelation. 

The clean page to which she had referred was evi¬ 
dently presented to me, very white, very new, entirely 
soulless, and I was left to make what I could of it, 
which was not much. 

I realized before an hour had passed’ that if I was 
to make any progress at all toward the achievement of 
my goal I must break through this impersonal barrier 
and, whether for my weal or woe, get at the real 
woman behind. 

True to her agreement, she had evidently resolved 
to put herself entirely at my disposal, and any sugges¬ 
tion of mine that we should walk together or ride to¬ 
gether was met with instant acquiescence, with the re¬ 
sult that day after day we were to be seen either rid¬ 
ing or walking in each other’s company, no doubt to the 
extreme bewilderment and scandal of the neighbor¬ 
hood. But my lady showed no concern, if she felt any. 
She responded with careless graciousness to the def¬ 
erential greetings of the tenants and village folk, and 
before long I had opportunity also of observing the 
attitude she adopted toward the neighbors of her own 
standing. We happened to be riding abreast down a 
narrow road, when at a bend we came face to face 
with a certain Mr. Penant, a squire of some repute in 
that part of the county. 

He was a man of great arrogance of character, dis¬ 
liked and feared rather than respected by the peasantry, 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


74 

and though I had never personally come in contact with 
him before I knew him well by sight. 

On recognizing my lady, this gentleman immedi¬ 
ately swept off his hat and bowed almost double over 
his horse’s neck. 

“Ah, Lady Rosamond,” he exclaimed, “this is in¬ 
deed a pleasure. My daughter and I were just saying 
we felt it was quite time we paid you our respects. I 
hope you are as well as can be expected after your sad 
bereavement, my dear lady.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Penant,” replied my lady simply. 
“I am well.” She paused a moment, and then added 
quietly: “You have, no doubt, heard that I have mar¬ 
ried again.” 

The squire threw a sharp glance in my direction; 
then deliberately turned his shoulder to me, saying in 
a loud tone: 

“Yes, I did hear of that disgraceful coercion of a 
beautiful woman and a devoted widow, who was will¬ 
ing to sacrifice herself for her brother’s sake. You 
have my deepest sympathy, my Lady.” 

“I am sure your sympathy is kindly intended, sir,” 
replied my Lady, without any alteration of tone or ex¬ 
pression. “The lord protector, I fancy, has little re¬ 
spect for considerations of the kind you mention, but on 
this occasion he has had the grace to choose an honor¬ 
able gentleman for the part he wished played, and for 
that I am grateful. Let me introduce to you my hus¬ 
band, General Williams.” 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 75 

The man’s face of bewilderment was comical; his 
already bloated countenance seemed to swell out and 
became like a beet-root in color. With obvious dif¬ 
ficulty he forced himself to turn and look at me again. 
In response to my salute he raised his hand half-way 
to his hat, and then dropped it again, with a smothered 
oath, only to lift it again this time as far as his hat- 
brim upon finding my lady’s eyes fixed gravely and 
commandingly upon him. 

It was abundantly clear to me that it was my lady’s 
intention to guard my life, my honor, and my dignity 
with the utmost jealousy; and this attitude did not al¬ 
together surprise me, for it was in keeping with that 
haughty pride and spirit of noblesse oblige which I 
divined would dominate her in all her actions, even to 
the submitting of herself to an otherwise intolerable 
position. This curious loyalty to my person and posi¬ 
tion, however, did not, I realized, help one whit to the 
accomplishment of my purpose. I was as far as ever 
from my lady; the invisible barriers were as impene¬ 
trable as before. 

Indeed, I came upon one of the closed doors of which 
she had spoken upon the very first day’s ride. 

By way of making conversation rather than with 
any definite purpose, I spoke of my visit to her uncle’s 
home, and asked her a casual question about her 
cousin, Captain Lovet. Upon receiving no response, 
I glanced inquiringly at her, and was both chagrined 
and amused to read in the set of the profile turned to 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


76 

me that her silence was of deliberate purpose. To 
make it still more unmistakable, she turned and 
directed a steady glance upon me, at the same time 
quietly changing the subject to an entirely impersonal 
one, thus giving me to understand that I was barred 
from all that concerned her past life and intimate per¬ 
sonal relations. 

It was a rebuff, and I confess I flushed under it and 
made a mental note to avoid for the future any oc¬ 
casion for its recurrence; at the same time I cast about 
in my mind for a method whereby I could establish 
some sort of personal footing, for this, I felt, was 
essential if I was ever to get at my real lady at 
all. 

For the nonce I bowed to her will with the best grace 
I could, and confined myself strictly to topics of super¬ 
ficial and passing interest, until I perceived the auster¬ 
ity of her expression gradually relax, and she resumed 
her former pleasant, courteous bearing. 

Seen at close quarters, by daylight, my lady ap¬ 
peared even more beautiful than I had believed her to 
be. Her complexion was as flawless as a child’s, and 
her hair of ruddy gold was enhanced by contrast with 
the black beaver hat she wore for riding, adorned with 
its single drooping feather. 

The imperious self-will which had marred her ex¬ 
pression in early youth had become replaced by a more 
disciplined pride. Her lips in repose closed in firm, 
beautiful lines, almost severe in their calm strength, 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 77 

but when she talked or smiled her face altered to an ex¬ 
traordinary degree; the eyes under their level golden 
brows seemed to glow as though the sun shone through 
their heavenly blue, and a provoking babyish dimple 
would suddenly appear in the peach-like cheek. How 
I grew to love that dimple, and plot and plan how I 
might call it into life! 

It is difficult for most men, I suppose, to speak 
frankly of their childish days, of their home life and 
boyhood’s ambitions and follies, unless to an audience 
of proved sympathy and understanding; to a shy, re¬ 
served nature such a proceeding must be harder still; 
but if, added to this natural diffidence, there should 
be actual uncertainty of the character of the audience 
and of the kind of reception such self-revelation would 
receive, it can be imagined what an effort such a step 
would involve. This was exactly my situation. As 
my lady would not admit me into her confidence, I 
resolved I would throw open the sanctuaries of my 
inner man to her, that I would, as it were, open the 
door of my humble cottage abode for her to look into, 
even if she would not deign to cast therein more than 
a glance of disdainful curiosity, or possibly, worse 
still, of shuddering repulsion. 

It required an effort, as I say, to do this, and the 
effort lent an unnatural constraint to my voice, which 
I tried my best to conquer. 

We were riding past my father’s old forge when 
I opened the subject. The forge had been unused 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


78 

for many years, and, having fallen into disrepair, 
was now overgrown with creepers and ivy—a pictur¬ 
esque spot enough, used only as a wood-she'd for the 
lodge-keeper’s cottage. 

I do not quite know how I began. I know I stum¬ 
bled a little over my words at first, and felt furious 
with myself for doing so. After all, I told myself, 
if my lady did take advantage of the opportunity given 
her to show how utter and entire was her indifference, 
it would be no more than I had reason to expect, and 
would not mortally wound me. 

So I continued. I spoke of my life in the cottage 
and at the forge. I spoke of my father, so big and 
bluff, and of my mother, gentle-voiced and delicate, 
who ruled him with a rod of iron all unconsciously. 
I did not look at her as I went on speaking almost 
mechanically. I felt I was not making my personal 
history at all interesting; every word was weighed with 
effort, and the silence with which she listened, or ap¬ 
peared to listen, added to my nervousness. I derided 
myself for a self-conscious foal and continued dog¬ 
gedly. 

And then she acted in one of those inexplicable ways 
that, as I say, rendered me a bewildered, besides a 
baffled man by the end of the week. 

She turned to me suddenly, like an impulsive 
child, and her eyes of heavenly blue smiled full into 
mine. 

“Tell me more,” she demanded. “I should like to 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 79 

hear all you did as a boy, and later on, when you went 
to the war.” 

Had I been Don, I fancy gratitude would have been 
visible in every part of my body, from my furiously 
wagging tail to my eloquent eyes and wet, quivering 
nose, but being only an extremely inarticulate human 
being, profoundly unused to self-expression, I could 
only give her an awkward glance of thanks and set 
myself to obey her command. 

From that time onward we talked often of my past 
life. I told her of my experiences in the wars and, 
encouraged by her frank interest, I recounted small 
personal episodes, some of pathetic and some of amus¬ 
ing character, and was delighted to see her eyes soften 
with tears or sparkle with spontaneous merriment, as 
the case might be. My lady had accepted my invita¬ 
tion and entered my parlor, and, though she had ex¬ 
cluded me from crossing her delicate thresholds, I felt 
I had made a big step forward and I was a contented 
man. 

Thereupon I dared yet another step. 

I asked her if she would come to see my mother. 

My lady hesitated, and an almost startled expres¬ 
sion came into her face. 

“Do you wish me to do so ?” she inquired presently, 
and I smiled at her tone, for it so clearly implied, “Is 
this to be taken as a command from you as my legal 
lord and husband?” 

“I should deem it a favor,” I returned gravely. 


8 o 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


She inclined her head. 

“Very well; I will accompany yau whenever you de¬ 
sire.” 

It came about, therefore, that my lady and I rode 
together the next afternoon, through Lingfield, out to 
Frogett Heath and across the common to my mother’s 
little cottage. 

It was a silent ride, for my lady scarcely spoke, and, 
depressed by her distant manner and reserved expres¬ 
sion, I too became tongue-tied. The hot sweet scent 
of gorse never fails to recall that ride to my mind, for 
as our horses plunged across the hummocky grass be¬ 
tween the massed bushes of golden furze, the per¬ 
fume, heavy of cocoanut, rose to my nostrils from all 
sides. 

My mother had already been warned of the visit, 
for I had ridden over to see her the previous evening, 
as was my invariable custom. 

She was, therefore, sitting up in bed, propped up 
upon snowy linen pillows smelling of lavender, with a 
lace cap upon her neat head and a ne\v fleecy shawl 
around her shoulders. 

A dainty and adorable picture, to my mind. 

Her greeting of her visitor was all that I could have 
wished—a mingling of natural dignity and diffidence. 
My lady was obliged to stoop her head to enter the 
modest apartment, and it seemed to me emblematical 
of the enforced stooping of her haughty spirit; and 
perhaps the same thought came to her mind, for I 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 81 

noticed she flushed, and for a second her golden brows 
were drawn together in a little frown. 

I am sure my mother’s keen eyes noted this, for she 
told me afterward that her heart sank within her as 
she beheld my lady’s haughty expression on her first 
entry. She showed it not in her manner, however, 
and there was nothing I could have desired altered in 
her soft-worded greeting. 

“I am indeed honored, my Lady, that you should 
have taken the trouble to come so far to see me,” said 
my mother. “Pray excuse my being unable to rise 
to bid you welcome, as is befitting. I have been 
chained to my bed by rheumatism these last two 
years.” 

My lady approached my mother’s couch and gravely 
took her hand in hers. I could see the two women 
take stock of one another as I watched the little scene, 
so ordinary and yet so fraught with importance for me. 

Then my lady smiled and, turning suddenly to me, 
said quite naturally: 

“Is n’t your mother like my aunt, Lady Lovet?” 

I hid my amazement and delight at her inconsist¬ 
ency. My mother had accomplished what I had been 
unable to achieve. My lady had refused with me to 
mention any of her relatives, and here she was refer¬ 
ring to her aunt and actually asking my opinion of a 
likeness I had myself noticed. 

My dear old mother blushed a pretty pink and looked 
quite confused at the unexpected compliment. 


8 2 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“I do not think there can be any real likeness be¬ 
tween the Lady Lovet and myself,” she exclaimed in 
an almost horrified tone. 

My lady continued to gaze at her in an interested 
way. 

“But there is,” she persisted. “It is quite an aston¬ 
ishing likeness. Do you not think so, too?” she in¬ 
quired again of me. 

I nodded. 

“Yes. There is an undoubted resemblance some¬ 
where,” I assented. 

My lady then sat down beside the bed, and I pres¬ 
ently sauntered out of the room and left the two to¬ 
gether. What passed between them I never was told 
in full. Possibly nothing much was said. Women 
have queer ways of understanding each other, and 
getting to know one another by round-about means. 
I only knew that when I returned my lady rose to her 
feet to take farewell of my mother. 

For a second she seemed to hesitate, and then, stoop¬ 
ing swiftly, she kissed my mothers pink wrinkled 
cheek, saying simply: 

“Good-by. I will come again soon, if I may.” 

I felt a dazed man as I followed her out of doors. 

But, had I hoped to presume upon the incident, such 
intention would have been successfully checked by my 
lady’s manner; for, far from unbending toward me 
an iota, she turned the coldest and severest profile to¬ 
ward me, and by her attitude plainly said: 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 83 

“Your mother is an entirely different person to you. 
If I choose to kiss your mother, it must give you no 
sort of hope that I shall ever be willing to vouchsafe 
like kindness upon you.” 

I did not attempt to presume, however; I was too 
profoundly grateful to heaven for the small progress 
made to try to hasten matters and perhaps spoil all 
by so doing. 

What a marvelous thing is religion, thought I as I 
rode homeward by the side of my la*dy. Naught but 
religion can ennoble the humble and render the haughti¬ 
est spirit modest and lowly. I blessed the influence 
upon my dear lady of that religious household, which 
had so softened and disciplined her as to bring out 
all that was beautiful and noble in her character and 
efface the faults which had marred it in her youth*. 

My lady’s coldness persisted, however, beyond that 
one afternoon. 

It seemed as though she felt she had made herself 
more vulnerable by her impulsive act of condescension 
to my mother, and felt the necessity, in consequence, 
of donning a protective armor against any passible ad¬ 
vantage I might desire to take. 

She still acquiesced in my slightest wish, and made 
no apparent effort to avoid my company, but her man¬ 
ner was unresponsive and her expression grave, while 
the adorable dimple remained hidden away in the 
smooth cheek, from which no efforts of mine could 
coax it. 


84 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


It was just at this time, at the end of the second 
week, that a perplexing incident occurred. 

I happened to have taken a stroll round the gardens 
one evening, returning by a remote part which I had 
not previously visited. Upon rounding a corner, 
screened by a gigantic hedge of clipped yew, I came 
suddenly upon a scene which surprised me. 

Seated on a circular bench beneath a wide-spreading 
oak-tree was my lady, and standing in front of her, 
with his back to me, was Masterman, the steward. 

To find them conversing in so out-of-the-way a spot 
would have roused in me only a passing wonderment, 
but there was that in the attitude of them both which 
caught my immediate attention. 

My lady was leaning forward, with her face in her 
hands and her elbows resting upon her knees. The 
evening sunlight illuminated her whole figure, and 
every line in her body seemed to me to denote fatigue 
and dejection. 

Masterman, on the other hand, stood up before her, 
forceful and commanding, almost, I could believe, 
threatening. I had often been aware, myself, of 
the man’s strong personality, but had never resented it 
until this moment. With an abrupt movement, my 
lady raised her head, and said some words I could not 
catch, at the same time throwing out her hands in a 
gesture suggestive of despair. 

The instant she raised her eyes she, of course, saw 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 85 

me, standing behind Masterman, in the shadow of the 
yew, and in her ey.es, with the sun upon them, I read 
consternation. 

But only for a moment. Rising to her feet, she 
dismissed the steward with a quiet air. 

“That will do, Masterman. Carry out your instruc¬ 
tions as arranged.” 

The man had not moved a muscle or shown in any 
way that he was aware of my presence. He now 
turned on his heel with a respectful salute, and his face 
wore its habitual expression of reserved decorum. 

On passing me he again saluted with perfect com¬ 
posure. 

When he was out of sight, my lady turned to me, 
and there was a trace of nervousness in her manner. 

“Shall we return to the house, sir, or were you go¬ 
ing elsewhere?” she asked. 

“I will accompany you to the house,” I replied. 

Together we retreated our steps in silence, and I 
could sense that her nervousness increased as my si¬ 
lence continued. I surmised that she was wondering 
how long I had stood in the shadow of the yew before 
she had seen me, and how much of her conversation 
with the steward I had overheard. It was not my ob¬ 
ject to enlighten her, for, I argued, if she was in the 
man’s power for any reason, the best threat that could 
be held over him would be the uncertainty of how much 
I knew or guessed, and he would be able to wring 


86 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


from her any enlightenment she might be able to sup¬ 
ply on that point. If, however, she too was in the 
dark, I certainly held the whip-hand all round. 

I therefore maintained my silence until we entered 
w the house together. 

As we passed into the great hall she made some 
scarcely articulate remark about going upstairs, and, 
looking at her more closely, I was smitten to the heart 
to observe her extreme pallor and that her teeth were 
actually chattering as with cold. 

Without considering my action, I laid my hand upon 
her wrist. 

“Why, madam, you are icily cold,” I exclaimed. “I 
fear you have caught a chill.” 

With a quick movement, almost a shudder, she with¬ 
drew herself from me. 

“No—I—please don’t touch me. I have received 
agitating news. I am not quite myself, so please for¬ 
give me.” 

She raised her eyes to mine for an instant, and I 
read such trouble in their depths that I cursed myself 
for a brute to have played upon her fears, even for her 
own protection as I had intended. 

“Will you not trust me to help you?” I asked as 
gently as I could. 

Another little shiver seemed to pass through her. 

“Perhaps—you may be able to help—I may ask 
your help,” she replied hurriedly, “but not just now.” 

With that, she turned and sped up the stairs, leav- 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 87 

ing me a perplexed but not altogether dissatisfied man. 

The days passed and I had no light thrown upon 
the little incident. My lady appeared to have re¬ 
covered her composure and made no further reference 
to our conversation. 

I was deeply chagrined, however, to notice that her 
manner had become even more aloof than before; she 
now deliberately avoided me; and, where before she 
had received my advances with a certain quiet dignity, 
she now showed such shrinking distaste that I was 
forced to alter my tactics altogether, and confess my¬ 
self repulsed effectually. There was nothing for it but 
to bide my time. 

One evening after my lady had retired to her room 
for the night, I returned to the hall, having lighted 
her to her room, and, pausing below a full-length por¬ 
trait of the late Lord Killigew which hung upon the 
wall, I fell to studying it, with bitterness in my heart. 

The sound of some one stirring behind me roused 
me from my momentary reverie. Turning abruptly, I 
became aware that Masterman stood close to me, his 
eyes also fixed upward upon the portrait. 

I looked hard at the man, wondering what thoughts 
lay behind his calm exterior. 

“There stood a gallant gentleman, Masterman,” I 
said, raising a candle so that the light fell upon Killi- 
gew’s features. 

“Yes, sir,” responded the steward gravely. 

“It seems a strange irony of fate that he should have 


88 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


come through so many great fights, only to fall at 
length in little more than a street scuffle,” I continued 
thoughtfully. 

“Yes, sir, it does seem strange.” 

I continued to gaze at the portrait. 

There was something attractive about the face, 
though not his best friend could call Killigew hand¬ 
some. His features were harsh and his complexion 
swarthy as a Spaniard’s, but the brilliant hazel eyes 
looked out with dare-devil gaiety from beneath the 
bushy brows, and the full lips curved up pleasantly at 
the corners. A merry, genial gentleman, I had always 
heard him described, entirely lacking in foresight as a 
leader, but recklessly courageous, and beloved by his 
men for his good temper and careless camaraderie. 

“Was Lady Rosamond here when the news came of 
Lord Killigew’s death?” I asked Masterman presently. 

“No, sir. My lady was staying at Tunhill Park 
with her uncle, Sir Reginald, at the time. But she re¬ 
turned to Rookherst almost immediately, to see to 
some legal papers and documents.” 

“About what date was that?" I inquired, for no 
particular purpose, but because the least detail of my 
lady’s movements was of interest to me. 

“It must have been about the end of March, sir. 
Lord Killigew was killed on the eleventh, and we re¬ 
ceived the news about a week later, when his body was 
found and identified. It had been thrown into a ditch, 


DOORS LOCKED AND UNLOCKED 89 

with a number of others, but Sir Reginald obtained 
permission to give it decent burial.” 

The man spoke in his usual low, even voice, with¬ 
out any emotion. Although I had reason to suspect 
him of exercising some disturbing influence over my 
lady that evening I came upon them together, yet I 
could not bring myself to dislike him or believe him 
capable of doing anything really evil. 

There was a quiet dignity in his bearing and a steadi¬ 
ness in his regard which my dealings with men had 
taught me to associate with honesty and fidelity. 

Acting upon an impulse, I turned to him suddenly, 
remarking: 

“It is no easy matter, Masterman, to step into shoes 
still warm from a dead man’s feet.” 

He met my eyes for an instant, and to my surprise 
I thought I read both understanding and pity in his. 

The next second he averted his gaze, and replied in 
an unmoved voice: 

“No, sir. I should imagine not, sir. Shall I bring 
in some wine, sir, before you retire?” 


CHAPTER V 


“the blue boar” 

I RECEIVED a summons to London early one 
Thursday morning, just four weeks after my 
wedding. 

My heart sank when I perceived the official cover¬ 
ing and seals on the packet, and my disappointment 
was acute when I realized that in all probability this 
meant the end of my leave and, possibly, my being 
ordered to resume my command in London. 

The problem in my mind now was: if this was to 
be the case should I arrange for my wife to join me, or 
should I leave her undisturbed in her old home and 
trust to the probability of being able to pay her fre¬ 
quent visits, as it was but a three hours’ journey, in 
good weather, from London? 

I was revolving this question in my mind while 
leaning over the raised parapet which overhung one 
end of the swimming-bath. The blue-tiled bottom 
gave the water the appearance of illimitable depth, and, 
being the color of my lady’s eyes, this spot had al¬ 
ways a fascination for me. 

Happening to glance now across the glittering water, 

90 


“THE BLUE BOAR” 


9i 


I became aware that my lady was approaching slowly 
along a grassy glade between herbaceous borders 
which led directly toward the opposite end of the baths. 
It was evident to me that she had not seen me, for she 
walked with her eyes upon the ground, and it was not 
until she passed within the porch of clipped yew which 
formed the lower entrance to the arena surrounding 
the baths that she glanced upward and caught sight 
of me watching her. She paused abruptly, and it 
seemed to me her first impulse was to turn back; 
but I checked this by calling out, “Will you come 
here, m,adam, please? I have somewhat to say to 
you.” 

She continued her way at once deliberately, until 
she had ascended the steps to my side. 

“I am glad you have come this way, madam,” said 
I, “for I have some news to impart to you. I have 
just received a summons to Whitehall.” 

She looked up quickly. 

“To London? When do you go?” 

“To-morrow.” 

A further question seemed to be upon the tip of her 
tongue, but she appeared to check it with intent. It 
was evidently not her object to show any curiosity in 
my proceedings. 

“You do not ask for how long I am going,” I said. 
“Does that not interest you at all?” 

She kept her eyes obstinately fixed upon the parapet 
upon which I was leaning, while she replied coldly: 


92 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“I imagine you will tell me as much as you desire 
me to know, sir, without my asking.” 

I remained silent, observing the sweeping curve of 
her brown lashes, darker in shade than the level golden 
brows, and noting the shadow they cast over her cheek. 
My hands rested upon the stone work before us, and 
I presently became aware that she was not, as I had 
first supposed, merely fixing her gaze downward be¬ 
cause conscious of my scrutiny and resolved not to 
meet it, but that she was staring with curious intent¬ 
ness at my hands. 

Following her gaze, I glanced down also at them, 
but saw nothing there to explain so intent a scrutiny. 
They are large hands, and at that moment were, hap¬ 
pily, passably clean, though browned by the sun and 
wind. 

As if suddenly becoming aware of my long silence, 
and as though roused by the same from a reverie, my 
lady stirred and looked up, meeting my inquiring, half- 
amused glance with a slightly embarrassed expression. 

“I fear they are not aristocratic, madam,” I re¬ 
marked. “Suitable hands for the son of a blacksmith, 
but not for the husband of a peer’s daughter.” 

Her color deepened, and for a second she looked 
taken aback and at a loss. Then she replied gravely: 

“I think hands indicate character rather than breed¬ 
ing.” 

“And mine?” I asked, smiling, holding them out 
palms upward for her inspection. 


“THE BLUE BOAR” 93 

She smiled also, and to my joy the baby dimple 
peeped forth at last. 

T think yours are big and quiet, like yourself,” she 
replied, adding, “They look to me good.” There was 
a curious shyness in her manner and tone which as¬ 
tonished me, and the words seemed to be uttered al¬ 
most as if against her will. 

“Good?” I ejaculated. “How can hands look 
good?” 

“That I cannot explain,” she replied, with a resump¬ 
tion of her cool detachment. “And it is possible I 
may be entirely mistaken.” 

“Nay, indeed I hope not,” I responded fervently. 
“I should like to believe you thought me good.” 

“I think you were about to tell me of your move¬ 
ments,” she said, deliberately changing the subject. 
“I shall be interested to hear anything you may wish 
to tell me.” 

“I have been recalled to London,” I replied, “but 
have no idea how long I may be away. If I should 
find I am to resume my previous command, what 
would you say if I desired you to join me there?” 

There could be no doubt my proposition startled her. 

There was actual dismay in her expression, as she 
exclaimed: 

“Leave Rookherst, do you mean?” 

“For a time—yes,” I replied, watching her keenly. 

She was silent for a moment, and it seemed to me 
she was thinking rapidly, for there was a concentrated 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


94 

expression in her eyes beneath the slightly knitted 
brows. Then she spoke hesitatingly: 

“I should prefer not to leave Rookherst, naturally. 
It has associations for me.’’ She paused, as though 
reajizing too late that this was not the best argument 
to use with me; then continued in a more composed 
tone, with the old touch of hauteur. “However, sir, if 
it is your desire, I »will, of course, be ready to obey it 
in the matter.” 

“In this as in all other matters,” I exclaimed impa¬ 
tiently, letting my feelings get the upper hand for the 
moment, “you are verily a pattern wife in your duti¬ 
ful submissiveness! I could wish you were a little 
less dutiful and a little more human.” 

She drew herself away from me. 

“I think you could hardly expect more in the cir¬ 
cumstances, sir,” she said with quiet dignity. 

I recognized the reproof. The thought in her mind, 
no doubt, was that her husband had only been dead 
four months; in my mind lay the knowledge that I 
had loved and waited for her for twenty years. But 
this was nothing to her, no excuse for my impatience, 
for my fretting desire to know her, to be allowed to 
get at the spirit of the woman. 

She had even withdrawn of late the little comfort 
I had gained for myself, the small success I had 
achieved, or thought I had achieved. I could find no 
cause in myself for such withdrawal. I had never 
presumed. I had kept my word and given her all the 


“THE BLUE BOAR” 


95 

liberty, all the privacy, that an unmarried woman 
would have enjoyed. In return I only asked, as yet, 
her friendship, and an opportunity to be accorded me 
for letting her know what manner of man I was, that 
I might perchance win her confidence. 

And this she now denied me, deliberately, by her 
coldness and aloofness and avoidance of my person. 

“You say I could hardly expect more, madam,” I 
said bitterly. “You are right, no doubt. I suppose 
I could scarcely complain if you showed open loathing 
of me. But the grounds of my complaint are not that 
I have any right to expect different treatment, but 
that you have already accorded me a treatment very 
different. Wherefore this altered attitude? If I have 
done aught to deserve it, it would be only fair to tell 
me of it.” I paused and looked at her interrogatively. 

Her delicate color deepened and she stirred uneasily. 

“You have done nothing, sir,” she replied, with obvi¬ 
ous discomfort. “You have, indeed, behaved in every 
way as a generous man would—but-” 

“But what?” I asked, concealing my eagerness. 

She made a little movement with her hand, smooth¬ 
ing her brow as if to clear away a troubling thought; 
then she looked quickly up at me, and there was a glint 
of laughter or of tears in her eyes; I could not have 
sworn which. 

“If you wish I were more human, I, for my part, 
could wish you were more ordinary, sir,” she said. 
“If only you could be contented, as other men would 



MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


9 6 

be contented, with—with—our marriage as it would 
appear to be—a bargain marriage, all would, I be¬ 
lieve, be well. But—but—you are not. You crave 
what I cannot give you. Why not be satisfied with 
the less, and with all this,”—with a comprehensive ges¬ 
ture toward the beautiful garden,—“when you know 
you can never expect to gain the greater?” 

“Never!” I exclaimed emphatically. “To the end of 
my life I will continue to expect the greater and never 
be satisfied until I attain what I crave. That is, the 
love of the woman I have loved so long.” 

She inclined her head gravely, almost sorrowfully. 

“Very well, sir; so be it. I fear we must leave it 
at that. My bargain included submission to your will, 
as your wife, but nothing more. I could wish, as I 
say, for your sake as well as mine, that that should 
satisfy you, for I both like and respect you. I am 
speaking, I think, humanly enough now. For your 
sake and because of my appreciation of your character, 
I could wish you demanded less, for, I repeat, I can 
only see bitter disappointment in store for you. It is 
in order in some degree also to protect myself that I 
warn you of this, so pray bear it in mind if in the 
future you are disposed to blame me too bitterly for 
the disillusionment when it comes.” 

I smiled at her earnestness. 

“I will remember, madam. I must take my chance, 
and I can at any rate be grateful to you for your frank¬ 
ness. It is preferable Jto deception.” 


“THE BLUE BOAR” 


97 


She frowned suddenly. 

“I have never promised not to deceive you,” she 
said, with a note of sharpness in her voice. 

“I am not easily deceived,” I replied, still smiling, 
“so I should advise you not to attempt it.” 

She made no sort of retort, and for a few moments 
we stood together in silence, gazing down into the 
pool, wherein, incidentally, I got a second-hand image 
of herself. 

Presently she asked: 

“At what hour do you propose starting for London 
to-morrow, sir?” 

“Soon after daybreak, for I wish to reach White¬ 
hall before noon.” 

“And you do not know when you will be likely to 
return?” she continued. 

I shook my head. 

“No. I may come back the next day, or I may be 
detained a week, or even ordered to resume duty at 
once.” 

She seemed to hesitate, then said slowly, not looking 
at me: 

“You remember I told you I had had disturbing 
news ? I did not tell you what it was then, for I hoped 
to hear further on the matter first. It has to do with 
my brother, Lord Lovet. He is, I learn, very ill.” 

I regarded her attentively, and she continued: 

“He is, as you may know, very young, scarcely 
more than a boy, being only nineteen, and the strain 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


98 

of his imprisonment and cruel uncertainty as to his 
fate have no doubt resulted in this illness. He is my 
only brother and very dear to me. I have, since my 
parents’ death, looked upon him as a special charge, 
and it was, of course, as you are aware, for his sake I 
consented to this marriage. To a certain extent, there¬ 
fore, you are beholden to him for the realization of 

this—this-” she paused, and her lips took a slightly 

satirical curve—“of this dream of yours. That being 
so, I venture to make a daring request. Should I hear 
further news that my brother’s condition is worse and 
really critical, as I fear it may be, will you procure 
for me a pass that I may visit him?” 

It was an audacious request, as she acknowledged. 

“Where is your brother?” I asked quietly. 

“At Cologne.” 

“Madam, will you look up at me a moment?” 

She raised her eyes swiftly, her color changing. 

I held her clear blue eyes with mine for a minute 
before asking gravely : 

“If I obtain such a pass for you, my Lady, how am 
I to be sure that you will ever come back to me?” 

“I swear it,” she exclaimed eagerly. 

I appeared to be satisfied. 

“Very well. I will see what I can do, if you should 
have worse news.” 

Her gratitude rather took me aback. 

“Oh, thank you! I will never forget the debt I 
owe you, if you do this. I will—” she hesitated—“I 



“THE BLUE BOAR” 99 

will do all I can to repay you—in as far as I am able, 
that is to say.” 

I laughed aloud, but a trifle grimly. 

“A promise, with reservation, I perceive. Well, 
madam, I hope I shall appreciate your efforts as they 
will deserve.” 

The next morning I was up before dawn and, with 
my man Saunders, was mounted and ready to start 
for London ere the first bird’s twitter broke the hush 
of Nature’s sleep. 

I knew that I could not expect my lady to rise to 
bid me God-speed, yet, when my man had gone ahead 
to open the gates, I reined in my gray just at the moat 
bridge, to give myself opportunity to take a lingering 
look at the windows of my lady’s room. There was 
no sign of life within. My lady was, no doubt, sleep¬ 
ing upon her perfumed pillows, and I could picture the 
shower of golden hair strewn out upon the snowy 
linen, the dark lashes resting upon her rounded cheeks, 
and her soft breathing like a child’s. 

With a short sigh I turned me back upon the sad¬ 
dle, to find my lady close beside me. 

She had come silently across the grass from the side 
of the house, and the dew clung damply to her skirts, 
and a gossamer web heavy with night mist had be¬ 
come entangled in her hair, having detached itself from 
some overhanging bramble. 

I did not attempt to hide my joyful surprise. 


100 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“I had no hope of this, madam,” I exclaimed. 
“Are you really here in the flesh to bid me good- 
by, or is it a fancy born of my own ardent de¬ 
sire?” 

She laughed, a sudden mirthful ripple of sound 
which enraptured my ear; then, as though sobered by 
some memory, she checked herself, banished the dimple 
and replied seriously: 

“It was only right and my duty that I should be 
here to see you off on your journey.” 

“I believe the word 'duty’ is the key-note to all your 
conduct, my Lady,” I said gently. “It is no small 
thing for a man to feel confident that his wife will 
never fail in her duty.” 

I spoke in all sincerity, but I was surprised at the 
effect of my words. I had dismounted by now and 
stood close beside her, my horse’s reins through my 
arm. She turned swiftly toward me, and her face was 
as white as the lace at her breast. 

f 

“Do not say that—oh, please do not think so highly 
of me, sir! I affirm yet again that you do not know 
what manner of woman I am. The duty I speak of 
is but the perfunctory duty I owe you, nothing more. 

i 

And, even if it were more,” she continued with grow¬ 
ing agitation, “there are duties and duties—one duty 
will assuredly clash with another in this troublous 
world, until in the confusion one knows not what way 
to take.” 

She looked exceedingly young and childish at that 



“THE BLUE BOAR” 


ioi. 


moment, so much so that I instinctively stretched out 
my hand and took hers in mine, patting it as one would 
to console a child. 

“Very well,” I said, smiling down at her troubled 
face, “I will endeavor to think as badly as I can of 
you, so that the fall of my ideal may not be too over¬ 
whelming when it comes.” 

I then gently raised her hand to my lips, and she 
made no resistance when I pressed a lover’s long kiss 
upon its delicate softness. 

My servant and I had almost reached the gates of 
the park when my attention was caught by the figure 
of a man skulking in the ditch by the wayside. Sus¬ 
pecting him to be a poacher, I called to him sharply to 
step out on to the road where I could see him, at the 
same time covering him with my pistol. 

The fellow came into view, a respectable enough 
looking man, but clearly much alarmed at his position. 
In answer to my inquiries he said he was a pack driver 
who had just arrived in the neighborhood on his way 
to Maidstone from Salisbury, and, asked what he was 
doing on my property, he hesitated, and then explained 
he had been entrusted with a message to be given to a 
Mr. Masterman, steward at Rookherst, and that he 
had been told to give it to the same steward in person 
and to no one else, and, being in a hurry to move on 
his way, he had resolved to come early and catch the 
head steward betimes. 

I appeared to be satisfied with his explanation, and 


102 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


called out to my man, who was awaiting me dutifully 
a little distance off: 

“Masterman, here is a fellow who has a love-token 
for you, it seems. Hasten to relieve him of it, so that 
we may get on.” 

Tossing the man a coin, I resumed my way whis¬ 
tling, for I felt cheerful enough. 

I fear me in those days acting or speaking an un¬ 
truth troubled me little. They were difficult times we 
lived in, and the most truly God-fearing among us 
often failed in spoken word or hypocritical act, be¬ 
cause it seemed impossible to steer otherwise through 
the pitfalls which waylaid us on every side. To hood¬ 
wink a peddler was merely a joke to me, apart from 
any information I might be able to acquire by so do¬ 
ing. 

As soon as Saunders rejoined me he handed me a 
small piece of crumpled paper, and it was with diffi¬ 
culty that I deciphered through the dirt upon it the 
following cryptic sentence: 

The Blue Boar, Salisbury. 

An address only; no signature and no name to show 
for whom it was intended. I was frankly puzzled. 

I could not imagine the stately, dignified Master- 
man having any truck with the writer of so grimy a 
document and one who lodged in so unsavory a quar- 


‘THE BLUE BOAR” 


103 


ter, for I was acquainted with the Blue Boar Tavern 
in Salisbury. I put the slip of filthy paper away care¬ 
fully in my pocket-book until I should decide what to 
do with it. 


CHAPTER VI 


LAYING A TRAP 


LMOST the first person I met on my arrival 



at Whitehall was Major-General Lambert. 


He greeted me with his habitual geniality, for 


he was a man who laid himself out to be pleasant to 
all with whom he came in contact, with, I always sus¬ 
pected, a view to attaching people to his person and 
thus forwarding his own ambitions. He was un¬ 
doubtedly the most popular officer in the army, and 
might at any moment become a serious rival to Crom¬ 


well 


I liked not the man,- however, and, although I was 
not ofT 5 of those who bowed themselves down to Oliver 
as a prophet of the Almighty, there was in my mind 
no manner of doubt which of the two men was the 
greater and the fitter to be a ruler. 

Oliver, with all his faults, both great and small, 
was a born king and leader of men, magnanimous to 
his personal foes, indifferent to slights, which would 
have pierced the vanity of lesser men, with natural 
dignity requiring no external display, his sheer force of 
character making itself felt in spite of embarrassments 


LAYING A TRAP 


105 

of speech and manner, and his very ambition, great as 
it undoubtedly was, ennobled because directed to the 
accomplishment, as he believed, of God’s will, rather 
than to the achievement of personal aggrandizement. 

Such, at least, is the man that Cromwell appeared 
to me, and I was by no means biased in his favor, for 
I had served principally under Fairfax, whom I re¬ 
vered for his nobility as a man and genius as a com¬ 
mander, and compared with whose moral transparency 
Oliver appeared grosser clay, though a far abler man 
and more complex character. 

But for General Lambert I had neither liking nor 
respect. I read the schemer in his thin nose and quiv¬ 
ering nostrils, and the egoist in his self-conscious eyes; 
nevertheless he was a handsome man, and had the 
charm of manner and deportment which comes of good 
breeding, and for the which I envied him. 

“Ha, General, well met!” he exclaimed heartily. “I 
thought you were honeymooning in the wilds of Sur¬ 
rey. How goes it with the beautiful Lady Rosamond? 
Lucky dog to have captured so fair a prize!” 

As he spoke I recalled to mind a rumor that he had 
desired the hand of my lady for some relative of his 
own, but that Oliver had refused to help on the suit, 
possibly doubtful of his loyalty as it was, and having 
no desire to add to the influence he already had by any 
additional aggrandizement of his family in position or 
property. 

This knowledge made me cautious in my reply, but 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


io6 

Lambert appeared not to observe my reticence and 
merely clapped me upon the shoulder in friendly fash¬ 
ion, saying: 

“Well, well, it is early days yet, and of course Lady 
Rosamond has been only recently bereaved of her first 
husband. I met her many years ago, and thought her 
a charming and accomplished woman, and of uncom¬ 
mon loveliness also. They said in those days she had 
an imperious will, and ruled Killigew, impetuous spirit 
though he was, but since then I believe she has altered 
considerably, which will be all for the better for you— 
though I could not conceive of you being ruled by any 
woman, Williams, or, indeed, of your ever being in 
love, man. I think I have never heard you utter more 
than a half a dozen consecutive words at any time, 
except when haranguing your troops.” 

He looked at me smilingly but with some curiosity. 

“Tell me, though, what brings you to London?” 

I could truthfully answer that I did not know, but 
was there in obedience to orders. Lambert knit his 
brows for a moment in thought. 

“I wonder,” he said reflectively, “if it is on the 
same wild-goose chase that has brought me up. That 
old grandmother, Secretary Thurloe, is forever scent¬ 
ing plots and risings, and very useful they are for 
fixing Oliver in his place, the panics they cause ren¬ 
dering all peaceable men his stanch supporters. Now 
the new rumor is that Charles Stuart is in hiding some¬ 
where over here, and I suppose Thurloe and his under- 


LAYING A TRAP 


107 

lings will work that for all they can, until the city 
and country are seething with excitement and conster¬ 
nation, and ready to empty their pockets into the gov¬ 
ernment coffers for the safety of the state. Personally 
I am heartily sick of it all—as must be all honest men.” 

He glanced sidelong at me to see, I suppose, if he 
could detect any sympathy or interest in my face, but 
I fancy my stolid regard baffled him, and in his mind, 
I have no doubt, he put me down for a heavy plowman 
turned soldier by a freak of circumstance, and not 
worth further effort. 

Soon after he left me I was sent for to the secretary 
of state’s room, where sat Mr. Secretary Thurloe. 

I had always found Thurloe a grave, pleasant man, 
reliable in all his methods, and in any matter with 
which I had had dealings with him I had been im¬ 
pressed by his sagacity and foresight. 

He greeted me kindly. 

“His Highness will be here presently, General,” he 
said. “In the meantime, I can explain the reason for 
sending for you so-summarily. You must know that 
it was intended by the Royalists in the recent rising 
of March last that, should their plan be successful, 
Charles Stuart should be prepared to cross immediately 
and raise the royal standard in person. Happily the 
insurrection, as you know, proved entirely local, and 
practically no blood was shed, save at South Molton, 
where Lord Killigew, by the way, met his death. 
Now, the part I wish to emphasize is this: The 


108 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

Stuart, accompanied by the Marquis of Ormond and 
others, traveled in disguise from Cologne to Middel- 
burg to await the turn of events. This much we 
know. From that point the movements of Charles are 
uncertain. Ormond, we know, returned in due course 
to Cologne, and our agents were constantly informed 
that Charles accompanied him, but the fact remains 
that from the day he arrived in Middelburg to the 
present hour none of our most trusted spies have ac¬ 
tually seen him in person. During the last fortnight 
a curious tale has reached us, which may or may not 
have substantial grounds. One of our paid men serv¬ 
ing us in Devon—a most faithful spy—arrived here in 
great haste, fairly bursting with excitement and de¬ 
claring he had actually set eyes upon the Stuart him¬ 
self, but had let him slip. It seems his suspicions 
were roused in connection with a lonely cottage near 
South Molton, the inmates of which he believed were 
concealing a Royalist refugee from the recent affray. 
He hung about the cottage for some time, and at 
length managed to climb up to a window and peep 
through, unnoticed as he believed. Upon a bed lay a 
man, evidently very sick, probably from a wound. 
And that man he declares was Charles Stuart. He 
swears he saw his face plainly, and gazed his fill, for 
the man lay sleeping. Charles has an uncommon type 
of face, there is no doubt; being in bed, of course, 
his unusual height could not be identified; but our man 
is convinced he could not be mistaken. Unfortunately 


LAYING A TRAP 


109 

either the stranger was not so sound asleep as he ap¬ 
peared, or else our man’s movements were observed 
from without; whatever the reason, when he led a body 
of troops there the next morning, the stranger had 
gone, and the cottagers swore they had had no one 
but themselves there, and showed him a heavy lout, 
their son, as the occupant of that particular room. 

“We had the countryside scoured and the roads 
to the coast, in particular, well guarded, but no in¬ 
formation could we obtain of any sort of this supposed 
refugee. 

“Now I come to the part affecting you, General, 
and I give you the facts with diffidence, for it ap¬ 
pears so slight a hook to hang a puzzle upon. How¬ 
ever, we cannot afford to ignore even a hint of a clue. 
A few days ago, a man was arrested upon the road 
near Salisbury. There had been a foul murder com¬ 
mitted in the neighborhood upon the highroad, and 
this man was suspected of being one of the band of 
rogues concerned; but upon being examined, and his 
person searched, he was proved to be entirely innocent 
of any connection with the bandits, and no further 
notice would have been taken of him, but for the dis¬ 
covery of a letter which roused the curiosity of the 
magistrate enough for him to send it to us, the man 
being detained under pretext of further inquiry. Here 
is the letter.” 

The secretary paused and turned over a paper upon 
his table, handing it to me. I read as follows: 


no 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


To Mr. Masterman, 

Steward at Rookherst Place, 
in the county of Surrey. 

Dear and respected sir, 

Regarding the footman of whom I wrote to you some 
time back. I have despatched him to you as arranged, and 
he should reach Rookherst in du.e course. His journey 
may be interrupted owing to the unfortunate accident I men¬ 
tioned to you in my last letter, wherein his face became so 
severely burnt. The poor fellow as near as possible died, 
and is still really unfit to travel save by slow stages. If 
you could arrange to send coach to meet him at Winchester 
I should deem it a kindly act, for I do declare he is worthy 
of this consideration, for I can heartily recommend him as a 
faithful servant, and very deft and efficient in his duties. 

I remain your obedient and most devoted servant, 

Henry Grey, 

Steward to Mr. Porter. 

The writing was in an educated hand—no worse 
than the generality,—and easily read. 

I noted the letter was dated July 26, just four days 
previously. 

I returned it to Mr. Secretary Thu'rloe without com¬ 
ment. 

He gave me a keen glance. 

“What is your opinion of it, General?” 

“Well, it appears to me to explain itself, sir,” I 
returned. 

He nodded. 


LAYING A TRAP 


hi 


“Yes, on the face o’f it, it seems a strafghtforward 
recommendation of a man-servant from one steward 
to another,” he said. “What about this footman? 
Are you requiring a footman?” 

My thoughts sped to Job Forster. 

“I believe so,” I replied. “I leave such matters in 
my steward’s hands, but I know that a footman was 
dismissed my service some few weeks ago, so that no 
doubt my steward, Masterman, has taken steps to pro¬ 
cure another man in his place.” 

Thurloe folded up the letter and replaced it with 
others in a pile upon his table. 

“I am inclined to agree with you that this is quite 
an ordinary letter of innocent nature,” he said. “The 
only reason it roused any suspicion at all was that it 
was found so carefully sewn up in the man’s saddle¬ 
bag, and also that it bore no address upon it; but that 
might have been an omission from sheer carelessness. 
The bearer, on being questioned, admitted that he had 
been well paid to deliver it personally into the hands 
of a Mr. Masterman, head steward at Rookherst, but 
asserted that he had had it given him by a stranger on 
the road not far from Taunton, in Devon. He said 
he was employed by a firm of wine-merchants and ac¬ 
customed to travel from town to town, and explained 
his reason for hiding the letter in his saddle-bag was 
fear of contravening the law which forbids any but 
recognized carriers and personal servants to convey 


112 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


letters. According to the magistrate, the man ap¬ 
peared to be speaking the truth and to know no more 
about the letter than what he said.” 

I listened attentively, my wits keenly alert, for I 
began to scent trouble ahead. This was clearly the 
second letter which had been dispatched to my steward, 
as a previous one was referred to. I recalled the 
scene I had witnessed beneath the oak-tree one even¬ 
ing. The date would have been about the fourteenth, 
and that might have been about the date the first letter 
would have reached Rookherst. If that letter con¬ 
veyed, by means of a code, information regarding the 
king and possibly a demand for refuge and protection 
for his royal person,—if, I say, such an incredible thing 
could be possible,—it would be enough to cause 
my lady her agitation, and I could well imagine Mas- 
terman asserting his strong will over hers in his zeal¬ 
ous fidelity to the royal cause. 

My mind ran swiftly over these points, and then 
came back as swiftly to the utter incredibility of such 
a flimsy web of suppositions. 

I laughed out suddenly both at myself and at the 
grave-faced secretary. 

“If we begin to connect letters of this sort with 
every unsubstantial rumor which hangs about the 
Stuarts elusive person, there will be no end to the 
literature that will inundate your office, sir, it seems 
to me,” I said apologetically. 

Thurloe smiled pleasantly. 


LAYING A TRAP 


ii3 

“Quite so. I agree with your view entirely, Gen¬ 
eral. In any case, when this much-praised footman 
arrives, you will see for yourself whether it is the 
Stuart, and if he does not turn up, you will be in the 
position to suspect a code, and will then of course re¬ 
port to me.” 

Just at that moment Cromwell entered the room, 
accompanied by his son Henry and Major-General Sir 
John Preston. 

The protector nodded familiarly to me; and, fling¬ 
ing himself down negligently upon a couch near the 
window, he picked up a cushion, and, without any 
warning or the slightest change of expression, pitched 
it with precise aim at the smooth head of his secretary 
of state. 

“Say, Thurloe,” he exclaimed jovially, “has that 
knocked some sense into your brain? or are you still 
seeking a royal needle in a haystack?” 

The secretary picked up the cushion from the 
ground, where it had fallen, and placed it tidily upon 
a chair; smoothing his disordered hair, he then turned 
to his chief with* a little smile on his calm face. 

“I shall still seek the needle, your Highness, in case 
it should prick you when you least expect it.” 

Cromwell broke into a hearty open laugh. 

“Neatly replied, upon my word! Have you re¬ 
counted the whole tale to General Williams?” 

“Yes, sir, I have given the general a full account, 
and he is inclined to think with you that the letter 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


114 

is of an ordinary nature. I therefore propose to re¬ 
turn it to the messenger to be delivered in due course 
at its destination at Rookherst.” 

“If the Stuart is in the country, he will find it mighty 
hard to get out of it again, it seemeth to my judg¬ 
ment,” commented Cromwell dryly. “By the way, 
Williams,” he added, glancing pleasantly across at me, 
“you will be pleased, no doubt, to learn that you are 
to be given the Surrey command, which will permit of 
your making your headquarters on your newly ac¬ 
quired estate.” 

I was indeed elated at this piece of news, and was 
in the act of duly expressing my thanks when the door 
opened abruptly and an apparition appeared before our 
astonished eyes, which fairly took my breath from me. 

A woman, stark naked, stood in the doorway, look¬ 
ing round from one to the other of us with wide, 
brilliant eyes. Without a word, she came swiftly for¬ 
ward, straight to where the lord protector still reclined 
upon the couch, and, before a man of us could raise a 
hand, she had deliberately spat in his face, crying out 
in a high, strained voice: 

“Behold, I have been commanded by the Spirit to 
come as a sign unto thee, O vain man, thou fallen 
prophet of the Lord! Even as I stand stripped of all 
adornment, so shalt thou be stripped of all the power 
and greatness thou hast clothed thyself with, and even 
as I have spat upon thee shall thy person be scorned, 
and thy name execrated, because thou hast sought glory 


LAYING A TRAP 


ii 5 

for thyself and forgotten to humble thyself before 
the Lord Almighty.” 

The protector himself was the first to cope with 
the situation, for we all stood like dumb fools, open- 
mouthed and staring. 

Withdrawing a handkerchief from his doublet, 
Oliver quietly wiped his cheek; then, with no sign of 
irritation or hurry, he rose to his feet,—a big, bulky 
man,—towering over the now abashed, shivering crea¬ 
ture; with one deliberate movement he picked up his 
own scarlet cloak from the back of a chair and wrapped 
it round the maiden, for she was little more than a 
maiden in years. 

“My poor child,” he said gently, “you have yet to 
learn to try the spirits whether they be of God or of 
your own untaught imagination. Mark my words, 
the Spirit of God leadeth not to eccentricity, but to 
soundness of mind and health of body. If there is 
aught in your warning that may provoke me to further 
heart-searching and humility, I pray God it may con¬ 
duce to my good and His glory. For your part, recall 
to mind how our Lord dealt with the man of old who, 
like you, sought to throw away conventions and was a 
rebel against law and order. His neighbors, on their 
return, found him a reformed man, clothed and in his 
right mind, and we may well believe he became a model 
citizen and a valuable member of the state. So, my 
child, may you become. Preston, take this lady and 
find some respectable serving-woman on the premises 


n6 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


who will fit her out with clothing and give the woman 
this piece of money to keep her mouth shut, with a 
warning that if the story leaks out through her she 
will lose a good situation. I would not have this poor 
child ridiculed. Send her home by coach.” 

The officer had scarcely closed the inner door upon 
himself and his charge when there came a loud knock¬ 
ing upon the outer one, the entrance leading into the 
gallery. Believing this would prove to be some de¬ 
velopment of the scene just enacted, we all turned ex¬ 
pectantly as, in response to Thurloe’s call, the door 
opened. 

But this fresh interruption was of an entirely dif¬ 
ferent nature. Four sober-faced divines now entered 
the apartment, and, after solemnly saluting the pro¬ 
tector and his secretary of state, advanced with great 
dignity toward the former. 

Cromwell was still standing, and he now moved de¬ 
liberately to a position behind Thurloe’s table, where 
he stood, with steady gaze directed upon the new¬ 
comers. 

I found it difficult to connect this stern, rock-like 
figure with the man who had a few moments before 
been lolling ungainly upon the couch, throwing pil¬ 
lows at his subordinate. 

The four ministers lost no time in explaining their 
business. They had a grievance which they laid be¬ 
fore the protector with every sign of confidence in the 
justice of their cause and determination to see it reme- 


LAYING A TRAP 


ii 7 

died, with even a hint of threatening should the head 
of the state fail in his duty toward them. 

Their complaint was that certain preachers of the 
Quaker sect had set up street pulpits here, there, and 
everywhere, and were drawing away multitudes from 
the churches administered by themselves and other 
Presbyterian clergy. 

Cromwell listened to their tale in silence; when they 
finished he inquired gravely: 

“Do these preachers teach wrong living or any mis¬ 
chievous morals subversive of order?” 

The Presbyterians exchanged doubtful glances, but 
being honest men, though narrow, they had to admit 
this was not so. 

‘Then,” said Oliver simply, “my only advice to you, 
sirs, is so to preach the gospel yourselves as to win back 
the congregations you appear to have lost by your lack 
of fervor and spirituality, and to add to them; for it 
appears to me it were better to win new converts than 
to waste time in wrangling over the number already 
under instruction.” 

With this home-truth the quartet had to retire, satis¬ 
fied or not as they chose. When the door closed upon 
their dejected backs, Oliver turned to us with a little 
humorous smile. 

“Strange that such worthy and truly God-fearing 
men can undo the good they would do by these petty 
squabbles,” he said thoughtfully; after which sole com¬ 
ment he turned to Thurloe and plunged into an affair 


n8 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


of state which did not concern me; upon which I took 
the hint and withdrew, my respect for the protector 
greatly increased by the little incidents I had wit¬ 
nessed. Here was a man without affectation, secure in 
his own greatness, with the confidence born of self- 
knowledge, and that absence of self-consciousness 
which comes from submerging petty vanity in larger 
interests. A man who could be familiar to buffoon¬ 
ery and yet as regal as an emperor with equal ease 
and naturalness. A great man indeed. 

It was not until I had left the palace that I remem¬ 
bered the slip of soiled paper in my pocket-book. I 
was glad I had not recalled its existence before, for 
it might have embarrassed my manner and given the 
impression that I knew more than I cared to own. 

“The Blue Boar, Salisbury.” 

The footman of irreproachable character was to be 
met at Winchester, according to the intercepted letter. 
I determined to put it to test if there was any con¬ 
nection between the servant traveling to Winchester 
and the unknown individual at the Blue Boar. 

Stopping at a book-shop in Paternoster Row, I en¬ 
tered and purchased a pamphlet—almost the first my 
eyes lighted upon; it happened to be a treatise by an 
eminent scholar upon the education of children, en¬ 
titled “The Reformed School,” by John Dury. With 
a grin I slipped the torn scrap of paper between the 
front pages, and that evening posted the packet to my 


LAYING A TRAP 


119 

friend, Masterman, disguising my handwriting. I 
could imagine the amazement of the worthy steward 
when he read the title upon the frontis page. Horses, 
cows, or pigs he might have been interested in—but 
children! Well, I should see, anyway, what happened. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE NEW FOOTMAN 

I RETURNED to Rookherst the next day, and 
encountered my lady in the rose-garden. She 
was dressed in black, as was her wont, being 
still in deep mourning, but at her bosom she wore a 
great scarlet rose, and her cheeks vied with it in color, 
when she saw me approaching. 

“You have come back—soon—sooner than you ex¬ 
pected,” she said, and her voice faltered slightly. 

“Sooner than you expected and hoped, my lady,” 
was my unspoken comment. Aloud I replied as un¬ 
concernedly as I could: 

“Well, yes, perhaps, though I had no idea, as I told 
you, how long I should be detained. Happily I shall 
not, after this, be required to leave Rookherst for any 
long period at a time.” 

She gave me a swift inquiring glance. 

“Is that so? Then you have your orders? You 
told me you might be ordered to London.” 

“Yes, but I have now been given command in this 
district, and can therefore use Rookherst as my head¬ 
quarters.” 


120 



THE NEW FOOTMAN 


121 


There was no disguising from myself the unpleasant 
truth that my announcement was unwelcome to her. 
She received it in perfect silence, her eyes upon the 
ground. 

I felt an unreasonable anger rise up within me. I 
had every right, according to law, to be at Rookherst, 
since it was my personal property now, and I had also 
given her more consideration than she had any reason 
to expect, yet she made me feel I was an unwelcome 
guest, allowed there upon sufferance only, and my de¬ 
parture hoped for. 

I was tempted to show my irritability, like a boy 
in a huff, but maturer wisdom prevailed, and I re¬ 
marked quietly: 

“I thought perhaps you would be glad, in one sense, 
since it will at any rate not necessitate your accompany¬ 
ing me to London.” 

Oh, the curious nature of woman! Instead of giv¬ 
ing me a grateful glance, a decided frown puckered her 
golden brows. 

“1 think I should have preferred to have got away 
from Rookherst for a while,” she replied contrarily. 
“But no matter. We appear to be just the playthings 
of chance sometimes.” 

The bitterness in her tone went to my heart. My 
poor lady! Chance, or Fate,—or could it be Provi¬ 
dence?—had indeed dealt strangely with her. 

It was a few days later that Masterman came to me, 
and with his usual formal and respectful manner in- 


122 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


formed me he had procured a suitable footman to take 
the place of Job Forster. 

“He seems in every way an excellent man, sir,” he 
explained. “He has been recommended to me by a 
friend of mine, the head steward in the family of a 
Mr. Porter, in Devonshire. Upon Mr. Porter’s death 
the establishment has been broken up, and my friend 
is anxious to find a situation for this man.” 

“Devonshire is some distance away,” I remarked. 
“What part of Devon is it?” 

“North Devon, sir, not far from Taunton.” 

“Very well, Masterman,” I said carelessly, “since 
he seems to have good recommendation, engage him, 
by all means. I leave this kind of business to you, 
you know.” 

“Thank you, sir; very good, sir.” He hesitated a 
moment. “The only difficulty, sir, is that the man ap¬ 
pears to have had some sort of an accident recently. 
Mr. Porter, it seems, was interested in chemicals, and 
during some experiments a phial containing some in¬ 
flammable stuff blew up and scorched this servant’s 
face—disfiguring him considerably, I should imagine.” 

“Does it incapacitate him in his duties?” I asked. 

“No, I think not at all, from what my friend says, 
sir, but unfortunately it came upon the top of another 
misadventure. While accompanying his master upon 
a journey—the footman running beside Mr. Porter’s 
horse—they were set upon by robbers, and in the scuf¬ 
fle Picard, that is the servant, was wounded in the neck. 


THE NEW FOOTMAN 


123 

According to the steward, he is still weak from the 
effects of this, but the weakness is not likely to be 
permanent.” 

“Poor fellow,” I commented gravely. “He appears 
to have been very unlucky. You had better send a 
coach to meet him, Masterman, so as to convey him 
here in some measure of comfort.” 

“Very good, sir; I will do so, sir.” 

“How will you do so, though?” I asked. “You do 
not know, I suppose, where he is by now, if he is on 
his way?” 

“Yes, sir; he is at Salisbury, awaiting further in¬ 
structions.” 

I nodded. “Well, better send a coach there, Master- 
man. If he is a good servant he will be worth con¬ 
sideration.” 

Masterman saluted me respectfully and withdrew, 
while I sat down to think. 

The footman and the writer of the anonymous mes¬ 
sage were probably, then, one and the same person. 
The plot thickened. 

Yet it could be hardly conceivable that Charles 
Stuart should be about to walk into my hands in this 
manner. On the other hand, as Cromwell had re¬ 
marked, if Charles was in the country he would find 
it mighty difficult, in spite of the number and variety 
of his sympathizers, to get out again, with every port 
guarded, every big town riddled with spies, a price of 
a thousand pounds offered for his capture, and his 


124 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


face, figure, and description known in detail to the 
smallest village child. Only by a ruse of so daring 
a character as to be thought beyond conception could 
he hope to get away. Here, laid out before me, was 
just such a stratagem, which might be successful if 
the actors were bold enough and courageous enough 
to carry it through. 

But was it so? I should soon know; for no dis¬ 
guise, however cunning, could cut off several inches 
from a man’s height, and the man Charles stood two 
yards long, a great drawback to him in his adventurous 
life. 

The footman arrived in due course. I was out 
riding when he reached Rookherst and so did not wit¬ 
ness the return of the coach with its occupant. 

Masterman, however, came to me later with a grave 
face. 

"The man Picard has come, sir,” he said. "He is 
a sicker man than I expected, and I thought it advisable 
to despatch him at once to bed.” 

I eyed him reflectively. It is easy to hide inches 
in bed. 

"That is unfortunate, Masterman. What is the 
matter with him now? Not the plague or smallpox, 
I hope?” 

"Nothing of a malignant nature, sir. As far as 
I can judge it, it is just extreme weakness. I have 
put him in a room upon the ground floor, formerly 


THE NEW FOOTMAN 


125 

occupied by the cook, who has moved to the attics. 
It seemed more convenient he should be there, if he is 
to be waited upon.” 

I nodded affably. “Well, that is your affair, Mas- 
terman. Personally, I was under the impression it 
was a footman you required to help you, but if you 
prefer a patient to nurse, every man to his own taste.” 

My steward made no reply, but I thought I detected 
a momentary uneasiness in his expression. 

“Would you care to see him any time, sir?” he 
asked respectfully. 

“Yes, I might do so now. I will come with you.” 

It was with lively curiosity that I made my way to 
that wing of the house occupied by the kitchen and 
servants’ premises. 

The room assigned to the new man-servant stood 
opposite the kitchen, at the end of a passage. On our 
way through the hall I encountered my lady entering 
from the garden. She glanced from one to the other 
of us, and I answered the question in her eyes. 

“I am going to interview the new footman, madam, 
who has arrived this afternoon to take Forster’s place. 
Masterman tells me he is sick.” 

“Indeed? I hope it is nothing serious,” she re¬ 
plied quietly. “Can I be of any assistance in prepar¬ 
ing cordials? Let me know, Masterman.” 

Her manner was perfectly composed, and her eyes 
as clear as a child’s. I smiled a little ruefully to my- 


126 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

self as I followed my steward down the passage. My 
lady, then, might, it seemed, be a better dissembler 
than I had believed her capable of being. 

The room into which I was ushered by my steward 
was a small apartment, mean and bare enough in its 
furnishing, but otherwise light and airy. 

Lying upon the bed, covered with a thin blanket, 
for the day was warm, was my new footman. 

As we entered, he turned his face toward me, and 
made an effort to sit up, upon seeing me. 

I checked this, however, peremptorily, for one glance 
convinced me the man, whoever he was, was very ill. 
I approached close to the bedside and gazed down at 
him attentively. He appeared to be a man of between 
thirty and forty, for his hair was untouched with gray 
and of a deep auburn shade. His mouth and chin 
were partially concealed by a beard and mustache of 
the same color—the beard trimmed to a point. The 
extreme pallor of his thin cheeks was accentuated by 
the fact that where his eyebrows should have been the 
skin was raised and inflamed to an angry red color. 
He had neither eyebrows nor eyelashes, both having 
been singed away, obviously, by the accident to which 
Masterman had referred. An unprepossessing figure 
of a man to have about as a personal servant, was my 
inward comment. 

When the man’s eyes met mine, however, I changed 
my mind, for his eyes were beautiful, in spite of the 
disfigured lids. They were bright and dark and intel- 


THE NEW FOOTMAN 


127 

ligent, and had something of the wistful appeal in 
them one sees in dogs’ eyes—only a dog has no humor 
in its eyes, and these eyes might have humor mingled 
in their mute appeal. I could not have sworn they had 
not, at any rate. 

“Well, Picard,” I said at length, “that is your name, 
I understand. I see you are quite unfit to take up 
your duties yet. You had better make up your mind 
to rest here and regain your strength until such time 
as Mr. Masterman thinks fit. You will, of course, 
be under his orders.” 

“Thank you, sir. You are most considerate, sir,” 
replied the man in a low, husky tone. “I will make 
my best endeavor to recover as quickly as possible, 
and am exceedingly sorry to have arrived like this.” 

His manner seemed sincere enough, and I left the 
room much puzzled. 

If it was Charles Stuart, it was difficult to detect 
the disguise. His eyes haunted me, however. They 
had the Stuart beauty. 

The remaining fortnight of my leave passed all 
too quickly. I had now spent six weeks in my lady’s 
constant society, and on reviewing those weeks I found 
I could divide them into three distinct phases, accord¬ 
ing to my lady’s conduct. First, the commencement, 
when she treated me with all the pleasant impersonal 
courtesy and tact of a perfectly trained hostess; then 
the period when for no cause that I could account for 
she withdrew herself from me with what almost ap- 


128 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


peared to be nervous aversion, rendered the more per¬ 
plexing by softer impulses when, as though against 
her judgment, she would show me unexpected kind¬ 
ness. 

The last phase was even more bewildering. The 
best description I can give of her bearing was that she 
acted as though a load had been lifted from her mind. 
Her step was light and her expression cheerful, and 
her manner toward me day by day grew more friendly. 

I confess I sunned myself with much contentment 
in this new warm atmosphere of smiling sweetness, 
even though I remained watchful. 

One morning my lady encountered me as I was about 
to enter the room I had now assigned to myself as 
office and study. It was on the same landing as my 
bedroom and almost opposite—the only drawback to 
it being that it faced north, toward the back of the 
house. I .paused, my hand upon the latch, as I saw 
she was about to say something. 

“I was wondering, sir,” she began casually, 
“whether you procured that pass for me of which I 
spoke on the eve of your departure to London?” 

“Yes, the secretary of state gave me the necessary 
papers,” I replied, opening the door as I spoke, and 
holding it open for her to pass into the room; she ac¬ 
cepted the unspoken invitation and crossed the thresh¬ 
old, being the first time she had done so, to my knowl¬ 
edge, since I had made the room my special sanctum. 

“I have the pass with me,” I continued. “It only 


THE NEW FOOTMAN 


129 


requires to be filled in with full description and date. 
Have you had further news of your brother’s con¬ 
dition?” 

“No, I have heard no more, and can but hope he 
is better,” she replied composedly. “Letters take so 
long to come and go that one’s patience becomes much 
tried.” 

“You would take your maid with you, I suppose?” 
I asked carelessly; “if it should be necessary for you 
to go, I mean, and of course a man-servant—Master- 
man, no doubt?” 

She hesitated, and, I thought, avoided my casual 
glance. 

“You might require Masterman, perhaps, sir, here. 
I daresay one of the other men would do; but we can 
decide that later. By the way, the new man, Picard, 
I hear, is up and about now. Masterman tells me 
he has recovered from the prostration of the journey 
and has begun to take up light duties in the servants’ 
premises, no doubt as a prelude to his real work. 
Masterman appears to be satisfied with him, so far, 
and he is usually an excellent judge of servants.” 

“That is well,” I returned. “I hope he will prove 
a good footman, as I should prefer to make no change 
again in the staff, unless forced to do so.” 

That very evening I had my first sight of my new 
footman out of bed. 

I was seated in the large hall as the gloom of eve¬ 
ning fell and, to catch the last shreds of light, I perused 


130 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


my book in the window recess. I suddenly became 
aware that the candles were being lit, and, glancing 
into the hall, realized with a slight shock that it was 
the stranger, not Masterman, who lit them. 

I watched the man closely from over the edge of the 
volume I was reading. He moved carefully and noise¬ 
lessly from sconce to sconce—a well-trained servant, 
evidently, thought I with a grin. It had not required 
more than one measuring glance from his head to his 
feet to convince me that, whoever he was, this was not 
Charles Stuart. As the man approached near the win¬ 
dow, I put down my book and addressed him. 

“Well, P’icard, I am glad to see you are able to be¬ 
gin your duties. You look the better for your rest.” 

There certainly was a great difference in the man; 
the ghastly pallor of his dark skin was relieved by a 
faint color, and he looked also better fed and fatter in 
the face. 

“Thank you, sir,” he replied respectfully. “I am 
most grateful to you, sir, for allowing me this time off 
duty. I feel much better, sir, and hope I shall give 
you satisfaction.” 

On inquiring of Masterman later, I learned that 
he was much pleased with the new man. 

“A decent fellow, sir, I think. He seems most-will¬ 
ing and ready to do any duty required of him, even if 
outside his proper work. He is already a favorite in 
the servants’ hall, I hear, on account of his good 
nature.” 


THE NEW FOOTMAN 


I 3 1 

“Well, do not work him too hard at the beginning, 
Masterman,”I said, “and give him some pomade to put 
on his eyebrows. I confess I object to a servant 
minus brows and lashes.” 

I was perplexed and frankly inclined to believe I 
had made a mistake and that here was a genuine serv¬ 
ant, and victim of an unfortunate accident, and no 
disguised adventurer. After all, but for that slip of 
dirty paper, I should have had no excuse for my sus¬ 
picion. In that case, I realized with a sigh of relief, 
I could relinquish my watchful attitude, and press on 
my suit with my lady unharassed by any doubts or in¬ 
certitude. 

I voiced my satisfaction by whistling cheerily as I 
descended the stairs the next morning. My lady, who 
stood awaiting me below, ready dressed for riding, 
looked up and, meeting my eyes, smiled. 

“You appear to be very cheerful,” she said. 

“I have much to make me cheerful,” I responded, 
“for have you not just smiled at me?” 

“You were whistling before I smiled,” she retorted. 

“Yes, but you smiled yesterday and the day before,” 
replied I, calmly. 

She turned her face away, but the cheek which was 
toward me was very pink. 

“I shall have to be more careful,” she said demurely. 

It was the first time my lady had been deliberately 
coy with me, and it was not the last. From that time 
onward I would not say she played the coquette, for 


132 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


that would not be true, My lady had always too much 
natural dignity for that; but her very elusiveness was 
intoxicating, and with the subtle sense of a lover I 
felt she knew it and did not resent my increasing ad¬ 
vances. 

At my invitation she made free of my sanctum, and 
would often, while I wrote, sit there, reading or ply¬ 
ing her needle, for she was a beautiful needlewoman. 

It was on one of these occasions that she broached 
the subject of a visit to Tunhill Park. 

“I would not suggest it,” she said with a perceptible 
effort, “for I am cognizant of the wishes you have 
expressed on this matter, but I have had a letter in¬ 
forming me my aunt is unwell. She is subject to an 
affection of the heart. As you must know, she is very 
dear to me, and I should esteem it an act of great 
generosity on your part if you would permit me to 
visit Tunhill just for a few nights, to reassure my¬ 
self as to Lady Lovet's indisposition.” 

I listened to her explanation with a new foreboding 
in my mind. 

“Perhaps you would care to see the letter?” she 
continued, abstracting a sheet of paper from a purse- 
bag which hung suspended to her girdle, and rising 
from her chair to hand it to me. 

It was from her uncle, Sir Reginald, an affectionate, 
simple letter, informing her of small details which 
would interest her, and ending with an apology for 
the fact that her Aunt Letitia was unable to add her 


THE NEW FOOTMAN 


133 

accustomed message in her own handwriting, being 
confined to bed with one of her heart attacks. 

My lady watched me as I read, and there was a note 
of anxiety in her voice as she said: 

“I feel sure my aunt would have written even a 
few words, if she had been able, so I fear she must 
be worse than my uncle implies, but that he does not 
like to suggest I should come to visit her on account 
of your expressed wishes on that point.” 

This seemed likely enough. 

I folded the letter and returned it to her, where she 
stood at my elbow. Then I looked up at her. 

“Madam, I am no ogre.” 

“I know you are not,” she exclaimed eagerly. “You 
are one of the most generous of men, in my opinion.” 
As she spoke, she laid one hand lightly upon my sleeve. 

Her touch was a provocation, whether she knew it or 
not. In an instant I had swung round in my chair, 
and my arm was encircling her. 

I felt a tremor pass through her slim body, but she 
did not resist me; instead, it seemed to me her soft 
suppleness yielded to me as I drew her closer. 

“And what is to be my reward for this generosity 
of which you speak so highly ?” I asked lightly, but with 
gravity at the back of my glance. “Or is it perchance 
to be its own reward, like most well-doing?” 

She returned my glance shyly. I held her so near 
to me that her arm pressed my shoulder. 

“Will not my gratitude be enough?” she asked. 


134 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“No, I think not.” 

“Well, then, sir, ask what you wish.” 

“What I wish is, I fear, more than you are prepared 
to give yet, my Lady,” I said with an exaggerated 
shake of my head. “But I will ask you to do one thing 
which you cannot deny is within your power to do. If 
I let you go, will you tell me truly whether I have 
come any nearer to my goal; whether your recent kind¬ 
ness means anything? whether I hold even the tiniest 
corner of the fortress of your heart?” 

A burning flush showed her confusion. 

“I do not think you ought to ask me that, sir.” 

“Why not ? Do you deny you have treated me dif¬ 
ferently of late?” 

She was silent. 

Then, “Please let me go,” she said. 

I loosened my hold upon her immediately, but she 
did not move. 

She looked down at me, and there was a suspicion 
of that dimple in her cheek. 

“May I go to Tunhill, sir, for a few days?” 

“Yes, you may go.” 

“Then, perhaps, I will answer your question when I 
come back.” 

Her eyes swept my face with a flash of mockery 
in them, but not unkind mockery. Then, turning 
swiftly away, she left the room. 


CHAPTER VIII 


A SECOND KISS 

I T was the day before my lady left me on her jour¬ 
ney into Hampshire that the lord protector paid 
Rookherst a visit. He happened to be passing 
through the neighborhood, and stayed but a single 
night with me, for which I was somewhat thankful, 
for, easy guest though he was, with manners of famil¬ 
iar frankness, yet one could never forget when with 
him that one was in the presence of a great man, the 
ruler of the nation’s destinies. 

He arrived driving his own six-in-hand, with postil¬ 
lion in front, an exercise of which he was still fond, in 
spite of its having as nearly as possible cost him his 
life the year before in Hyde Park, when driving some 
new Friesland horses and using too severe a whip, they 
said. 

His Highness laid himself out to be all that was 
pleasant and affable, and in particular did not hide his 
admiration for my lady, who for her part was cour¬ 
tesy itself. At his request she both sang and played to 
us, and, though her voice was not powerful, it had the 
sweetness of a bird’s, and Cromwell, who loved music, 
expressed his pleasure in no stinted manner. 

135 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


136 

After my lady had retired for the night, the protector 
followed me to my sanctum, and, throwing himself 
down on a couch, remarked: 

“What a setting is this place for that beautiful jewel, 
your wife, Williams. I had heard accounts of her 
beauty, but I think the reality exceeds the description. 
You would seem to be a fortunate man.” He gave me 
a keen glance; then his gaze wandered round the room, 
resting at length upon my lady’s work-box, which lay 
upon the window-ledge at his elbow. From the work- 
box his eyes sought my table and its neatly filed papers, 
returning again to the box, and from there to my face, 
with a slightly quizzical gleam in them. 

“Confidential papers and a woman’s embroidery 
form something of a mesalliance, do you not think, 
General ?” 

I flushed under his glance. 

“I keep all confidential papers in my cabinet, your 
Highness.” 

“Under lock and key?” 

“Under lock and key, sir.” 

He nodded, as if entirely satisfied. 

“Forgive my remarks, Williams. I was only afraid 
lest in the husband of a beautiful woman you might 
forget the soldier of the state.” 

I bowed gravely. 

“I will not forget, sir.” 

“By the way,” he continued abruptly, “did you not 


A SECOND KISS 


137 

obtain a pass for the Lady Rosamond overseas, to be 
used in case young Lord Lovet was seriously ill?” 

“Yes, sir,” I replied promptly. “I have it here.” 

“Then your wife did not require it?” 

“No, your Highness. She is still awaiting further 
news of her brother.” 

“You may reassure her on that score from me, then, 
for I have had recent news of Lord Lovet. He was 
dancing a reel before Charles Stuart quite lately, and in 
the best of health.” 

“Then Charles has reappeared?” I asked, thinking of 
my footman. 

“Oh, yes. Did not Thurloe inform you? That 
bubble has been burst. Our man in Devon must have 
been drinking, and saw the Stuart’s saturnine features 
in the first lout he set eyes upon. I suppose your foot¬ 
man arrived in due course?” 

I smiled at the recollection of my suspicions. 

“Yes, sir. He appears to be an excellent servant, 
as I informed the secretary of state, and is wanting 
four inches at least of the Stuart’s length.” 

At that moment the man under discussion himself ap¬ 
peared, bearing a tray of wine and glasses. 

Cromwell watched him curiously as he arranged the 
tray and poured out the wine for us. 

I thought the man showed signs of nervousness, but 
that could well be accounted for by the simple fact that 
the protector was one who at times inspired fear in the 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


138 

breasts of even the most courageous. Picard had prob¬ 
ably never had to serve such a celebrity before. 

When he had retired, Cromwell remarked: 

“Is that your new man, General?” 

I assented. 

“A queer-looking fellow. But, I remember now, 
there was some mention in that letter of an accident 
to his face, was there not?” 

What a memory the man had for detail! 

“Yes, your Highness. He had his eyebrows and 
lashes singed away by the explosion of some chemicals, 
his former master was dabbling with.” 

“Yes, yes; that explains his odd looks.” 

We parted for the night on the best of terms, and 
the next morning the lord protector took his departure, 
bidding my lady and me good-by in the kindest man¬ 
ner imaginable. 

An hour later my lady took her departure also, ac¬ 
companied by her maid, and I was left a very lonely 
man, with an ache in my heart. 

True to her promise, my lady returned to me within 
a week. I had by that time taken up my new military 
duties, but I was at Rookherst when she arrived, and 
with quickened pulses came out to help her alight from 
the coach. 

She smiled graciously upon me as she gave me her 
hand and suffered me to lead her indoors. There was 
something besides the mere fact of her presence to 


A SECOND KISS 


139 

make my pulses throb, for had she not said she would 
answer my question on her return? 

I had not intended reminding her of it immediately, 
but she paused when in the great hall to remove her 
long gantlets, seemingly in no hurry to withdraw. In 
quite a natural manner she spoke of Tunhill and of her 
uncle and aunt and of the latter’s health, and recounted 
tiivial accidents on the journey. I listened, well 
pleased to be put on this footing, and secretly compar¬ 
ing this with the attitude she had adopted at the begin¬ 
ning. 

She looked so beautiful and so fresh as she stood be¬ 
fore me in the radiance of the window that I felt my 
senses reel. 

She met my glance and paused in sudden confusion. 

“You have something to tell me, I think, madam?” 
I said. 

“Something to tell you, sir?” Her voice sounded 
startled. 

“I put you a question before you left, and you im¬ 
plied you would answer it upon your return.” 

“Oh! that?” There was unmistakable relief in her 
tone. 

“Well?” 

“What was it exactly you asked?” she inquired, 
with an innocent air. 

“I wanted to know if I was any nearer my goal.” 

“It depends upon what your goal really is, sir,” she 
replied, without looking at me. 


140 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


I could not restrain an impatient movement. 

“Is that not quibbling, madam?” 

She gave a little nervous laugh. 

“I did not mean to quibble. What I mean is, are 
you still seeking that creation of your own fancy which 
you have idealized all these years, or do you really care 
for—for—the very ordinary person you see in front of 
you?” 

Her words caused me a sudden shock, for in a flash 
I realized how dim had become the image of the golden¬ 
haired child and imperious girl of my boyish devotion, 
and .how completely this flesh-and-blood woman, with 
her sweet firm mouth and clear eyes, had come to oc¬ 
cupy my heart. She awaited my reply with downcast 
gaze, playing idly with her gloves, but I noticed that 
her fingers trembled. 

“My Lady,” I said, and my voice sounded husky, 
“your question has opened my eyes. I thought I had 
been in love for twenty years; I know now I have only 
been in love for six weeks. Will you tell me now— 
am I any nearer my goal?” 

“I think you may be, sir,” she replied softly. 

I think I would have lost my head and kissed her 
—I know I took a step forward—but at that instant 
her eyes passed from my face, beyond me, and I saw 
the pupils dilate, while the delicate flush faded from 
her cheeks, leaving them strangely white. 

I glanced back over my shoulder quickly, and for 
the moment saw nothing save the blank wall. Lifting 


A SECOND KISS 


141 

my eyes a little higher, I found myself gazing full at the 
portrait of Lord Killigew, looking wonderfully life¬ 
like, and then I read the meaning of my lady’s look. 
The old love was contesting her heart with the new, 
and she was shrinking from that new force she felt 
gathering round her, compelling her to surrender. My 
sympathy went out to my lady, and it was with rever¬ 
ence that I raised her hand to my lips, stooping low to 
do so. I would not hurry her; it would not be fair or 
chivalrous. Yet I felt assured now that my great love 
for her must conquer, not to the ousting of the old 
affections, but by enlarging her capacity, so as to in¬ 
clude a new passion. 

Fool that I was! Little did I think how soon, how 
very soon I was to receive a rude awakening from 
my day-dreams, and be forced to recoil, as it were, 
from the pleasing role of love-smitten youth to that of 
a man hastily buckling on his armor for as bitter an en¬ 
counter as he is ever likely to meet in his life. 

Upon my return from my duties the following even¬ 
ing my lady met me in the hall, and her face was grave 
and her expression concerned and anxious. 

“Have you a few moments to spare to me, sir?” she 
asked in her low, clear voice, but with a troubled note 
in it. “There is a matter of urgency about which I 
would speak with you.” 

With unconcealed alacrity I invited her into my sanc¬ 
tum and closed the door upon us twain. 

“It concerns my young brother,” explained my lady, 


142 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


in answer to an inquiring glance. She held a letter in 
her hand, I now observed. “I fear me he is danger¬ 
ously ill. I have just received this letter, which per¬ 
haps you will kindly read for yourself.” 

Mechanically I held out my hand and took the sheet 
of paper. My blood was tingling to my finger-tips, 
every nerve on edge, every sense alive to the new situa¬ 
tion. In an instant my fool’s peace and security had 
given place to an acute consciousness of trouble ahead; 
old suspicions were aroused, and the need of watchful¬ 
ness revived with an irritating sense of their having 
been all too easily lulled to rest. 

I studied the letter in silence, intentionally taking 
my time over it, in order to give myself an opportunity 
for re-sorting my ideas and deciding upon my course of 
action. The letter was apparently written by a trusted 
servant or attendant of young Lovet. The writer re¬ 
ferred to his master’s long indisposition—his unwilling¬ 
ness to inform the Lady Rosamond of the true state 
of affairs, with the desire to avoid causing her too 
great anxiety, but of having now been driven to do 
so by the precarious state of his lordship’s health, if 
by any chance she could find it possible to come over to 
see him. 

It was a plausible letter, most touchingly expressed; 
I could have believed it was writ by a woman! 

With my eyes still upon the paper I asked quietly: 

“Have you spoken to Masterman and informed him 
that he would be required to escort you?” 


A SECOND KISS 


143 


“I have spoken with Masterman,” she replied com¬ 
posedly, “and he agrees with me that he is more re¬ 
quired at Rookherst, in view of the fact that he can 
save you, sir, from all domestic concerns. He sug¬ 
gests my taking Picard, being a quiet, capable man, ac¬ 
customed to travel abroad and speaking French well.” 

I turned at last and regarded her full and square. 

“I believe, my Lady, I once warned you that I was 
not easily deceived. This letter”—tapping the sheet of 
paper contemptuously—“is a fabrication, originating in 
whose brain I do not care to surmise. If your brother 
has been ill at all, it must have only been a trifling in¬ 
disposition soon after his release, for, if I am to make 
the facts tally with this effusion, I must believe that 
Lord Lovet rose from his bed of suffering and, in spite 
of bodily prostration, danced a Scotch reel in the pres¬ 
ence of his appreciative sovereign a few days before 
this trustworthy servant wrote to you.” 

It said much for my lady’s courage that, although 
she recoiled slightly as I spoke and her face became 
very pale, she still held her head high and returned my 
gaze steadily. I felt it was characteristic also that she 
made no futile attempt to carry on the deception, or to 
excuse it. 

When I had finished speaking she said simply : 

“I admit the whole story is untrue. There were 
grave family reasons why it was necessary I should 
go overseas for a short time, and I adopted this pre¬ 
text to obtain the necessary facility.” 


144 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


I continued to observe her closely, and she flushed at 
something she must have read in my eyes—not con¬ 
tempt, for I did not think too hardly of her for hav¬ 
ing tried to deceive me. Had she not warned me she 
might do so?—but there are kinds and degrees of de¬ 
ception, and in my mind a great dread was forming it¬ 
self. 

“Would it not have been simpler, and more straight¬ 
forward to have taken me into your confidence, madam, 
if it was merely a family matter?” I asked gravely. 

She averted her. eyes a moment. 

“Yes, perhaps; but there were complications. It did 
not concern me alone, you see.” 

“I see. Well, I fear now another method must 
be found to deal with this family affair,” I said coolly, 
turning away to sort some papers upon my table, as 
though the interview was at an end. 

I heard no sound behind me, however, to denote 
that my lady had taken the hint and was withdrawing. 
After a moment’s pause I felt a touch upon my sleeve, 
and, turning, I met my lady’s eyes, and the appeal in 
their blue depths was almost irresistible. 

“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I ought not to have 
lied to you, but the way was so beset with difficulties, 
and I did not know you as I do now.” 

“Knowing me as you do now,” I repeated gently, 
“you mean you will now confide in me?” 

She shifted uneasily beneath my steady gaze, though 
I know my glance was not unkind. 


A SECOND KISS 


145 


“1 cannot do that,” she muttered rather confusedly. 
“As I said before, there are others concerned; but if 
only you will extend your generosity even further than 
you have done so far,—and I, for one, am only too 
conscious of how great it has been already,—if, I say, 
you could extend i& even further, to the limit of per¬ 
mitting me to carry out this project, I declare I will 
be your debtor for life, and do all in my power to repay 
you as you deserve.” 

I listened thoughtfully, watching her. 

“I wonder, madam,” I said at length, “whether you 
fully realize what you are asking me to do? Will you 
tell me what it is? Will you sit down?”—pushing a 
chair forward for her and seating myself upon another. 

She looked at me doubtfully, questioningly. 

“I am asking you to permit me to use that pass you 
have obtained for me to travel from Dover to Calais 
and on to Cologne.” 

“Precisely. That passport, I may as well mention, 
was obtained by me with some difficulty, for reasons 
which you probably understand even better than I. 
During the past troublous years you have, rightly or 
wrongly, madam, not been free from suspicion of be¬ 
ing an active supporter of the royal cause; and in partic¬ 
ular during the recent enterprise of March last there 
were rumors that the cellars of Rookherst contained 
something more explosive than casks of wine, and that 
loaded carts made their way out at midnight from your 
park gates. With such reports as these abroad, you 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


146 

will quite realize that the secretary of state only issued 
that passport on the assurance that I stood security for 
you, and pledged the genuineness of the reason given 
as far as I knew it.” 

The troubled dismay was clear enough in her expres¬ 
sion. 

“I understand,” she said slowly. “I see how diffi¬ 
cult it is . . . for . . . for us both. But—oh, it is 
so important. Could you not stretch a point ? It need 
never be known that you knew it was a falsehood be¬ 
forehand. You once, long ago, did a chivalrous action 
for a woman you loved. Will you not earn that same 
woman’s gratitude and a wife’s devotion by once 
again subjecting cold duty to the nobler passion of 
love? See, I will carry the similitude even further. 
In the scene seven years ago, that woman bought her 
boon with a kiss, but it was a kiss of obligation. I 
kiss you now, Peter, not because I am forced, but 
freely, of mine own will.” 

So saying, swiftly, before I could stop her, she rose 
and, bending over me, pressed her lips softly upon 
mine. 

If any one had affirmed, an hour before, that I 
would suffer my lady to kiss me, feel the soft curves 
of her lips upon mine, and be conscious of the scent 
of her hair in my nostrils, without a throb of my pulses, 
dispassionately, passively, I would have confidently 
called him a fool. Yet now, just that incredible thing 


A SECOND KISS 


147 

happened. For the second time in my life the woman 
I loved kissed me and received no response. 

No action I could have adopted, no words I could 
have uttered, could have carried such a reproof as my 
stillness and my silence did then. If I could have 
kissed her, I would; if I could have spoken kindly to 
her, I would; but I was unable to do either, for I was 
held helpless in the grip of a foreboding, which laid 
icy fingers upon my heart-strings, so numbing them 
that they were incapable of any response to her ap¬ 
peal. In that instant the growing dread leaped into 
full life. My lady, then, had been playing with me, 
encouraging my eager pursuit for her own ends, cer¬ 
tain that she could, when needful, demand the price 
and that I would pay it like a slave. 

There are kinds and degrees of deception. I could 
forgive a lie, but not a lie hidden in a kiss. 

My lady was no fool. In spite of my self-pity, I 
found it in my heart to pity her also, as she slowly 
drew herself away from me, and with a little shudder 
put her hands up to her burning cheeks. The rebuff 
must have been well-nigh intolerable to her patrician 
pride. 

I got to my feet with an effort, for I felt curiously 
tired. 

“Lady Rosamond/’ I said slowly, and I believe my 
tone was gentle, if somewhat expressionless, “you must 
not take this to mean that I do not intend to help you 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


148 

if I can do so honorably. I am a servant of the Com¬ 
monwealth, and as such bound by an oath to act faith¬ 
fully. I will not ask you again to take me into your 
confidence; possibly my hands may be less tied the less 
I know. However that may be, I will see what I can 
do with the knowledge I have. There is one point, 
however, I should like to be informed upon. Had your 
recent visit to Tunhill any connection with this family 
matter you speak of?” 

She lowered her hands to her sides, and her figure 
seemed to stiffen as she returned my straight look with 
one equally direct. 

“Yes, sir, it had.” Her tone was defiant. 

“And Lady Lovet’s indisposition?” I asked quietly. 

She flashed a glance at me full of resentment. 

“My aunt was unwell at the time, and I used that 
as an excuse, if it pleases you to know the worst, sir, 
in your desire to humiliate me.” 

I remained silent a second, then replied gravely: “I 
have no desire to humiliate you, madam. My object 
in questioning you is, after all, a natural one. I want 
to know how I stand, exactly.” 

She compressed her lips into a scornful curve. 

“You stand holding the whip-hand, at present, any¬ 
way, sir, if it pleases you to know it, and I suppose it 
is a satisfaction to you to be able to repay now some 
of the slights and insults you suffered in the past.” 

An angry woman is proverbially unreasonable. 


A SECOND KISS 


149 

Compared to her small hurt pride, my wounded love 
and shaken trust were as nothing, I supposed. 

“I greatly regret, madam, if by anything I have done 
or said I have given you any cause to believe this of 
me,” I said quietly. “Believe me, there is no such de¬ 
sire in my heart. If you feel humiliated, you must ad¬ 
mit, I think, that you brought it upon yourself.” 

If a look could annihilate, I should have been anni¬ 
hilated then. In a perfect passion of resentment, she 
stamped her foot in the old familiar way. 

“How can I bear it ? How can I meet you day after 
day, after what has occurred?” she exclaimed in almost 
childish desperation. 

I raised my eyebrows with purposely exaggerated 
surprise. 

“After all, madam, if you are referring to a recent 
small incident, there should be nothing so very humilia¬ 
ting in a wife kissing her husband.” 

She gave an odd little laugh, ending in a sort of sob. 

“Are we husband and wife?” she asked, in a queer 
strangled voice. “I sometimes wonder.” 

“Does it seem so unreal, then?”I said sadly. 

“Very unreal. Horribly unreal. The ceremony 
was unreal. You are unreal. Your pretended love is 
unreal. I am unreal. The past and present are un¬ 
real, and the future I dare not visualize!” The sup¬ 
pressed feeling in her tone astonished me; her face was 
white now, and her whole body trembled as if with 


150 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

ague. I pushed a chair forward, and gently forced her 
into it. 

“You are overwrought, my dear,” I said soothingly, 
and in my new pity my old love and delight in her 
came back—she seemed so childish and fair, and the 
fear in her eyes roused my manhood’s desire to pro¬ 
tect her. “It is all my fault for blundering. I did not 
give full consideration to the fact that you must have 
had strong reason for the deception you played upon 
me. After all, too,” I added with a smile, “you gave 
me what should have been sufficient warning before¬ 
hand that this was likely to happen; but I suppose no 
man likes to be fooled. Now, I will tell you what I 
will do. I gather from what you have told me that 
your relatives at Tunhill are concerned in, or at least 
are cognizant of, the full facts of this mysterious 
family matter. It appears to me that it was as much 
their duty as yours to deal with it, and I propose to 
invite your cousin, Captain Lovet, to Rookherst, that 
he may talk the matter over with you, and, if possible, 
undertake the mission himself, in your place.” I 
paused and looked at her inquiringly. 

She made no immediate response, but sat with down¬ 
cast eyes, nervously twining and untwining her fingers 
together. Then she spoke with an effort. 

“I thank you for your kind thought, sir. It is very 
considerate of you—very like your habitual generosity. 
I hardly know what to say. My relatives would have 
undertaken the—the business had they been able to do 


A SECOND KISS 


151 

so. I do not think a visit from my cousin will aid very 
much, but at the same time I should certainly like to 
be able to seek his advice.” 

“Very good; that is settled, then,” said I cheerfully. 
“I will despatch a man at once with a letter to Tun- 
hill.” 

My lady rose to her feet, and as I stood holding the 
door open for her to pass out she gave me a reluctant 
glance—a doubtful, troubled look, and a little shame¬ 
faced. 

After all, I thought with renewed confidence, even if 
she had fooled me I held the whip-hand, as she said, 
for was she not my wife? and, God willing, were there 
not long years ahead in which I should not cease to bat¬ 
ter at the gates of her heart? 

I was relieved, however, to have the apartment to 
myself, and glad to rest my strangely weary limbs as 
I gave myself up to thought. 

There was not the shadow of doubt in my mind that 
the man Picard was closely concerned in my lady’s 
projected journey. She spoke of it as being a family 
matter. That might only be a ruse to draw off my sus¬ 
picions, or the man might be a relative. In either case, 
he was most certainly an unfortunate Royalist in dis¬ 
guise, attempting to evade his fate with the help of his 
friends. For my own part I had no wish to frus¬ 
trate their plans. Ever since the abortive attempt at 
insurrection in the previous March, Cromwell’s min¬ 
ions had been scouring the country for victims. 


152 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


Every petty military governor and every justice of 
the peace had been urged by insistent letters to 
the utmost zeal in ferreting out suspicious characters 
and ordered to arrest strangers without evidence, for 
the mere reason that they were strangers. 

About fifty or sixty brave, upright gentlemen had al¬ 
ready paid the penalty of their folly with their lives, 
and more than a hundred others were even now on their 
way out to work as slaves in Barbados, irrespective 
of their social rank or moral character. 

The majority of plain, temperate-minded men like 
myself felt enough toll had been taken already, and 
were not averse to giving a helping hand, where we 
could, to any poor wretch attempting to escape this 
sleuth-hound policy. As a soldier, my hands were 
more tied than if I had been a civilian, and I was fully 
conscious that I also ran far greater risks. The true 
personality of the refugee also would influence me; I 
should have fewer scruples in winking at the escape 
of a humble, unknown partisan of the royal house, for 
instance, than of one of the leaders, say Wilmot or 
Wagstaff. 

For neither of those two gentlemen could I feel much 
pity. They had apparently both already escaped un¬ 
scathed, leaving lesser men to suffer the penalties of 
their unsuccessful enterprise. I could not in my mind 
visualize my footman as being either of the two famed 
Royalist leaders, though I was unacquainted with the 
features of either. Lord Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, 


A SECOND KISS 


153 


bore no untarnished record, and his name was held in 
horror by every peasant in the countryside through 
which he had ridden his cavalry. Sir Joseph Wag- 
staff’s conduct at Salisbury was indicative of his char¬ 
acter, for, after having pulled the helpless sheriff and 
judges out of their beds, he was only deterred from 
hanging them in cold blood by the indignant protests 
of his honest supporters, Penruddock and Groves. A 
man who could contemplate the murder of non-com¬ 
batants could expect scant pity in his turn. 

Picard I could not believe to be either of these, and 
a Stuart he could not be. 

I resolved I would see more of the man, in the mean¬ 
time, and await an opportunity for helping him in his 
endeavor to evade justice, if justice it could be called, 
when I could do so with least possible risk to myself. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 

I N addition to these disturbing domestic occurrences, 
of late I had been harassed by an altogether dif¬ 
ferent cause, connected entirely with my military 
duties. 

The great Model Army, as it was called, in which 
I had the honor of serving, was in reality a curious 
medley of every class and type of man, a conglomera¬ 
tion of all sorts of creeds and opinions, prejudices and 
enthusiasms. 

These oddly-assorted parts had been held together by 
the common passions and furies of the war, the strain 
of long marches, fierce battles, sudden alarms, and 
surprise attack, but now that this unifying force no 
longer existed—in the leisure and liberty of peace, with 
discipline unconsciously relaxed—the fanatic and the 
rogue began to make their presence felt. The Leveler, 
the Anabaptist, Fifth-Monarchy man, and Millenarian 

each began to act upon his fervent belief of being God’s 

* 

one and only inspired servant, placed in the world to 
proclaim the truth revealed to him alone and to de¬ 
nounce all who opposed themselves to it in any man¬ 
ner whatsoever. 


154 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 


155 

The lord protector had, in the early days of his rule, 
encouraged, for his own purposes, these unruly fac¬ 
tions, partly, I believe, out of a sincere conviction that 
there were honest, God-fearing men among them,— 
Oliver being always a singularly tolerant man toward 
all religious creeds and opinions—and partly, it may 
be, because he found it to his advantage to play one 
faction against another. Later, however, he saw the 
necessity for suppressing the more disorderly with a 
strong hand. 

The trouble, however, cropped up repeatedly, to the 
disquietude of all officers placed in any considerable 
command. 

I had up till now considered myself extremely lucky 
to have been little troubled in this way, but since tak¬ 
ing up my recent command in Surrey I had already had 
cause for anxiety in one of the camps—one situated 
near Godstone. The Quakers, with their pacifist tend¬ 
encies, could have been effectually dealt with, for they 
were, for the most part, sufficiently law-abiding to be 
reasonable; the Fifth-Monarchy men and Millenarians, 
with their wild theories and ill-balanced ideals, would 
also have been comparatively easy to crush, for their 
visionary aims only appealed to a limited section. But 
the influence I found myself called upon to deal with 
was much more insidious and dangerous in its charac¬ 
ter and extent. 

The Levelers were a body of men who had much that 
was sound and right in their convictions; a great many 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


156 

of them were also men of high standing and moral 
character who sought to obtain their aims by fair and 
constitutional means. They claimed fair representa¬ 
tion and equal rights of citizenship for the poor as for 
the rich, and the abolishing of many abuses and privi¬ 
leges of old standing. But though these recognized 
leaders were sober-minded men, the rank and file were 
led by men of quite other character, whose teaching 
and outrageous claims were wholly subversive of both 
civil order and military discipline, and whose appeal 
to the discontents and self-seeking instincts of men 
found ready response. 

This was the mischief I had begun to scent, and in 
my case the difficulty was increased by the suspicion 
that the instigator of the trouble in this particular camp 
was a man who had been my companion in arms dur¬ 
ing the first years of my campaigning, my fellow and 
equal then, sharing my ration and my bed on many a 
night. 

Complications of something of this nature will surely 
always accompany any career like mine, when a man of 
the people is forced up into another class of society 
and into a position of responsibility, where he must 
wield authority over his erstwhile companions; and I 
was prepared to meet such normal complications in a 
practical manner. But there was in this case a possi¬ 
bility of tragedy which troubled me not a little. 

My difficulties were increased by the fact that I knew 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 


157 

I was unpopular with my own staff and had reason to 
suspect that information was purposely withheld from 
my knowledge. 

My predecessor had been a man of careless and pliant 
character, who had permitted great latitude to his sub¬ 
ordinates, with the result that when I took over the 
command I found many abuses which had to be put 
right and lapses in discipline which had to be corrected, 
to the natural irritation of the officers placed under me. 
These officers were also, to a man, my superiors by 
birth and standing, and not a few of them my seniors 
in age. 

The days following upon my interview with my lady 
were not happy ones for either of us, and our gloom 
seemed to infect the rest of the household. Saunders, 
my soldier-servant, became smitten with a fever, and 
lay muttering incoherent prayers upon his bed; the 
cook cut his hand with a carving-knife, and Don ran a 
splinter into his paw; while my steward and my foot¬ 
man both wore furtive looks and carried out their du¬ 
ties in depressed silence. My lady avoided me as far 
as possible, and on occasions which necessitated our be¬ 
ing together she was a monosyllabic companion, rarely 
lifting her eyes to my face and never addressing me un¬ 
less spoken to first. 

One morning, making an excuse of my own man’s 
indisposition, I gave orders to Picard to accompany me, 
in Saunders’ stead, on my daily ride to camp. I was 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


158 

curious to have a talk with the man, and whether or 
not I roused his suspicious fears while doing so was 
a matter of indifference to me. 

He was undoubtedly an excellent actor, and I had 
been able to detect, so far, no flaw in his bearing or 
address. He appeared to be just a well-trained serv¬ 
ant, but, as he dutifully held my stirrup and I swung 
myself into the saddle, I conjectured with an inward 
grin whether socially our positions should not by rights 
be reversed. 

Our road lay through pretty country, gently undu¬ 
lating for the first few miles amid meadowland and 
woods, until near Godstone, where the way inclined up¬ 
ward steeply to the common where the camp was situa¬ 
ted, being summer-time. 

When we had covered two miles or so I drew rein 
slightly for Picard to ride up to me, and addressed 
him carelessly: 

“Have you ever been to a military camp before, Pi¬ 
card?” 

“No, sir.” 

“You did not take any part in the war, then?” 

“No, sir; I was a gentleman’s servant, you see, sir.” 

“And your master, Mr. Porter, did he not interest 
himself in the quarrel, either?” 

“No, sir. He was a scientist, sir.” 

“But even scientists fought.” 

“Yes, sir—no doubt, sir; but Mr. Porter was an old 
gentleman.” 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 


159 


“I see. Pity the old gentleman managed to bum off 
your eyebrows, though, and that you got bulleted by 
those footpads. It would appear to be a good thing 
you did not go in for the actual fighting, as you seem 
to have been so unlucky even in your peaceful pur¬ 
suits,” I commented dryly. 

The man made no response, but showed a desire to 
slip back to his former respectful distance in my rear. 
This I frustrated, however. 

“Tell me, Picard, have you any relations living? 
Where does your family spring from?” 

He hesitated a moment. 

“I am partly of foreign extraction, sir. French.” 

“That accounts for your name, no doubt,” I said re¬ 
flectively. “Are you a married man?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“A widower?” 

“No, sir. My wife is living, but we are separated.” 

“That is a pity.” 

“Yes, sir, it is,” he assented gravely. 

“Whose fault is it, Picard?” I asked severely. 

“Nobody’s fault exactly, sir. It is just due to an 
unfortunate situation.” 

“Your affections are not divided, then?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Perhaps it is the sea which divides you?” I inquired 
innocently, “as you say you are partly French. Could 
you not arrange for your wife to join you in England, 
if that is the case?” 


160 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

“I should prefer to join her, sir, if it could be ar¬ 
ranged,” he muttered. “But I do not want to give up 
a good situation.” 

“Quite so. I can understand that. You might be 
worse off than you are now, out of the frying-pan into 
the fire, as it were,” I said genially. “But, being so 
happily married myself, I can feel for you, Picard, and 
if I can help you in any way to renew your former con¬ 
jugal relations I will be glad to do so.” 

My footman shifted uneasily in his saddle, and gave 
me a sidelong glance, showing some abashment when 
he found my eyes fixed pleasantly upon him. 

“Thank you, sir. I will remember your kind prom¬ 
ise, sir,” he replied gravely. 

We rode into camp about nine o’clock, and I was con¬ 
scious immediately of an atmosphere of suppressed ex¬ 
citement pervading the place, and kept a watchful look 
round me as I crossed the wide space between the 
roadway and my office quarters. 

I walked deliberately, and, I hope, seemingly with 
unconcern, as was my wont, but my heart sank with 
foreboding of trouble afoot. 

A couple of non-commissioned officers saluted me 
deferentially as I passed, and the men stood at atten¬ 
tion, but with sullen, downcast looks. 

At the door of my office I paused, and, turning to one 
of the non-commissioned officers, inquired sharply: 

“Where are Colonel Thompson and Major Heas- 
man ?” 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 161 

Even as the words left my lips I felt my arms pin¬ 
ioned to my sides and heard a loud exclamation from 
my footman behind me: 

“Good Lord, it is mutiny!” 

As if at a signal, in an instant we were the center of 
a threatening, muttering crowd of soldiers. The rope 
which had been dropped over me was tightened un¬ 
mercifully, effectually pinning my arms to my sides 
and rendering me painfully helpless, and I was firmly 
forced forward into the middle of the parade- 
ground. 

The situation began to elucidate itself as I looked 
round. 

It was plain that my subordinates had been, whether 
willingly or unwillingly I could not say as yet, already 
overpowered and placed where they could be of no as¬ 
sistance to me, and that I had now to face, and deal as 
best I could in my present humiliating position, with 
as dangerous a situation as a man could well be placed 
in. I had no difficulty in picking out the ring-leaders 
in the enterprise, grim fanatics all of them, morose, 
wayward spirits, believing themselves to be the instru¬ 
ments of heaven, in reality the slaves of every undisci¬ 
plined impulse of their dim, misguided intelligence. 
Foremost among them stood the man I had suspected. 
Poor fool! As I met his glance of hatred and fierce 
triumph I recalled the night when we had wrapped our 
two shivering bodies in the same blanket, and he, a 
fair-faced boy of seventeen, had sobbed his homesick 


162 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

woes into my ear and slept with his wet cheek against 
my shoulder. 

Since then he had successively turned Quaker and 
Millenarian, and was now a so-called Leveler, with a 
mission so to level all things that the earth should be¬ 
come a hideous place to live in—shaven and shorn of 
all motive for high endeavor, noble ambition, and de¬ 
sire for the bettering of mankind. 

I was not kept long in suspense as to the fate intended 
for me. 

Wilde, my old-time chum, stepped forward, and in 
an impassioned speech, in which his voice rose to a 
strained scream at times, in the frantic desire to be 
heard by all the great throng, and in the excitement 
of his unbalanced state of mind, he enumerated my 
crimes against society. According to him I stood for 
all that was evil and harmful in that age, an example 
of unbridled ambition, the successful adventurer and 
exploiter of other men’s misfortunes, a man who had 
once known God and felt the breath of His spirit, and 
who had deliberately trampled upon that Holy Revela¬ 
tion, spurned the Gift of the High Calling of the Al¬ 
mighty, and turned eagerly to seek after the world and 
the lusts of the flesh and the ways of the devil. By 
making an example of me before all men, the wayward 
would be deterred from like paths, and the weak 
brethren strengthened, an impetus would be given to 
the cause of Righteousness, and a staggering blow ad¬ 
ministered to the Forces of Might and Ungodliness, 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 163 

which now sat in high places (presumably his High¬ 
ness, the lord protector). 

From the chorus of deep amens and groans of as¬ 
sent which accompanied this inflammatory speech I 
gathered that the insidious influence had done its work, 
and that my fate could not even be said to hang in the 
balance, humanly speaking. 

With his hands uplifted to heaven, Ebenezer Wilde 
pronounced my sentence amid a hushed silence. 

Peter Williams, son of Peter the Blacksmith, was to 
be placed against a wall and shot for having arrogated 
to himself authority over his equals and using that 
authority to suppress the free intercourse of saints, 
and hindering the work of the Holy Spirit by the 
breaking up of prayer-meetings and by placing under 
arrest many of God’s chosen instruments. For these 
crimes and others enumerated at some length, he was 
to be made a public and terrible example such as would 
cause other God-forsaking officers to pause and trem¬ 
ble, and mend their way, and give encouragement to 
godly soldiers everywhere to up and do likewise. 

The hush which followed the last words was broken 
by a fierce oath behind me and the sound of a 
scuffle, and, turning my head, I caught sight of Picard 
being untenderly handled, then securely held, while a 
rough gag was thrust into his mouth. I gathered that 
he must have made a futile effort to come to my assist¬ 
ance, and unconsciously I registered a mark in his 
favor, forgetting, for the moment, how little likely it 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


164 

was that I should ever again be in the position to reward 
him with more than ghostly help. 

Happily I was myself not gagged, and, realizing 
it behooved me to make immediate use of this bless¬ 
ing, I raised my voice, but not too loud, for I had 
often noticed that men will listen more intently to a 
clear but not too high-pitched voice. 

There is much in habit, and the men attended in 
deep silence to what I had to say. 

I warned them of the folly of their action. In my 
place another would immediately step; discipline would 
still be enforced as rigidly as before, the only differ¬ 
ence being that they personally would not be there to 
suffer it, for they would all, to a man, have met their 
doom by then. 

“Men, which is better,” I asked them, “to submit 
yourselves to the powers that be, as St. Paul exhorts, 
and by your orderly conduct win others to the side of 
godliness, or to share the fate of the marauder and the 
lawbreaker and so dishonor the name of Christian? 
Remember, God is not the author of confusion but of 
order and peace.” 

My appeal had an effect which was immediately de¬ 
tected by Wilde. Swinging round to face his support¬ 
ers, he cried out: 

“Believe him not. He but deludes you and purposes 
to entrap you with his wily words. The die is already 
cast. It is too late for you to draw back. Your fate 
is sealed already, as far as human wisdom goes. You 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 165 

have already mutinied, and are as dead men, but God 
can and will protect you if ye be but courageous enough 
to go forward with the work. Strengthen your hands; 
confirm your weak knees. Let it not be said that ye 
put your hands to the plow and then recoiled from 
faintness of spirit and became a stumbling-block to the 
others in many places who are watching how ye will 
behave, and will follow your example if ye succeed. 
The day of the Lord is at hand, and the reign of the 
saints, when principalities and thrones and arrogance 
and pomp will all be cast down, and the humblest be 
exalted. We were not afraid to dip our hands in the 
blood of a king; shall we fear to shoot a man of our 
own standing, who arrogates to himself unrighteous 
authority?” 

A fierce murmur of approval arose from all sides; 
the die appeared to be cast indeed. I passed my glance 
rapidly over the crowded ranks, and made a rough 
shot at calculation; then, turning negligently to one of 
my captors who held me, I remarked in an aside: 

“The prophets of Baal were four hundred and fifty 
men as against one—a somewhat strange coincidence, 
methinks.” 

With the curiosity of children the men nearest me 
crowded closer to catch my low-toned words, and those 
who failed to hear them questioned suspiciously : 

“What said he? Tell us what he said.” 

“Four hundred and fifty! ’T is the fatal number. 
What said he of it?” 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


166 

“The prophets of Baal were four hundred and fifty,” 
I repeated, deliberately raising my voice. 

There fell a dead silence. 

Unwittingly, I knew then I must have hit upon some 
prearranged code, and to superstitious, ujiedufcated 
minds such trifles carry enormous weight. 

I pressed home my advantage. 

“My men,” I exclaimed earnestly, “mark you my 
words, coincidences such as this are not without their 
meaning. It may be that God would have you pause 
to think ere you act, lest you find too late that you have 
followed your own self-made guidance and not His 
Spirit. I urge you to put it to the test. I am at your 
mercy. I cannot escape, and you can still carry out 
your will upon me at any moment; if you are, as you 
profess, ready to follow God’s guidance alone, then ask 
Him for a sign as to what His will is, even as Gideon 
did of old. Let there be a lot drawn between Eben- 
ezer Wilde and myself, the one of us to die for the rest, 
the only difference being that if the lot falls upon me 
that I should take my own life—I give my word that I 
shall do so, and by doing so no blame can fall upon 
any one of you, for I should have died a suicide. If, on 
the other hand, the lot should fall upon him, he shall 
be shot by my orders as a mutineer, and as an example 
to the rest of you, and thereby also in his turn give 
his life for you.” 

I had hardly expected such an immediate acceptance 
and indorsement of my proposition as came now, and 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 


167 

certainly not from the quarter whence it came. With¬ 
out a moment’s hesitation Wilde sprang forward, his 
face aflame with fanatical fervor. 

“A sign! a sign!” he cried. “It shall be a sign from 
the Lord. A life given as a sacrifice acceptable to 
heaven.” 

The preparations were simple, and took little time. 
Two slips of paper, one blank and the other marked 
with a cross, were folded and placed in a helmet, the 
arrangement being that we were each in turn to draw 
out a paper, and the cross was to carry the death sen¬ 
tence. 

My arms were unbound, while the preparations were 
being made, to enable me to get back the circulation to 
my numbed fingers. There was no real reason why we 
should both draw out a paper, as far as I could see; 
there being only two slips, one of us would have been 
sufficient, but for some reason there was an unanimous 
desire that we should both be put to the test, I fancy 
from curiosity to see if either of us showed signs of 
fear at the crucial moment of unfolding our fate. 

It imparts a strange sensation to a man to look 
around him and note the blue sky, the fleecy clouds, 
trees in blossom and green grass beneath his feet, and 
realize that within an hour these may be blotted out for 
him forever. “Maybe this is my last look at that bird 
winging its way yonder,” I said to myself; “this is the 
last time I shall smell that scent of pine, the last time 
I shall gaze upon that human face over there. It is not 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


168 

a friendly face,” I found myself reflecting, “but it is 
flesh and blood, warm and living. I have a desire to 
see it again. I have a desire to breathe in this warm 
air again, to hear that lark sing often again. But 
within ten minutes I may be handling the hard barrel of 
a pistol, deliberately pressing its cold metal against my 
forehead, unwillingly but irrevocably closing my finger 
upon the trigger, and then—God have mercy upon my 
soul, and accept the enforced sacrifice, but not for its 
worth, for it has very little merit.” 

“Will you draw, sir?” 

With an effort of will I took my eyes from the 
bird I was watching with such seeming intentness, 
and, after bowing my bared head for a second in si¬ 
lence before God Almighty, I put my hand into the hel¬ 
met and drew out my slip. Wilde did likewise, but his 
prayer was spoken aloud, if prayer it could be called, 
for it was more like unto a command to his Maker to 
do His duty as understood by Ebenezer Wilde. In 
tense silence we each unfolded our slips. 

I had drawn the blank. 

There are, I suppose, some unhinged minds which 
only require a great shock, a sudden revulsion of feel¬ 
ing, to bring them back to sanity. Wilde must have 
been one such as this. The instant his eyes fell upon 
that condemning mark, the cross convicting him, as he 
believed, of sin against God, he recoiled in horror, not, 
I am convinced, from fear of his doom, but from the 
course he had mapped out for himself. At that instant 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 169 

he recovered his sanity and became the man God would 
have had him be. 

His face was deathly white, and perspiration had 
sprung out in tiny glistening beads upon his brow and 
lips, but it was not with cowardice, for his eyes as 
they sought mine held a tragedy in them far greater 
than the fear of death. 

We stood but a few paces from one another, and his 
voice, though low and strained, fell clear upon my 
ear. 

“General, can you forgive me?” 

I did not misunderstand his appeal. 

“I can forgive you, Wilde/’ I said gravely. 

Still his eyes searched mine. 

“Tell me, sir, am I a lost soul? Can God forgive 
me? I fear me I have sinned against the Holy Ghost.” 

“I think your fear is the proof that you have not, 
Wilde,” I said, a great pity in my heart. “Man, thy 
Maker is thy Friend.” 

“I know—I do know that. I do believe that,” he 
answered brokenly. “Thank you, General; you have 
always been a true friend and counselor to me. God 
will recompense you, even though I have proved so un¬ 
worthy.” 

After that he turned away without another word. 

To this day an agony of pain grips me when I recall 
the scene that followed. I dared not spare the man; 
my authority rested entirely upon the force of habitual 
obedience reasserting itself in my men, an example 


170 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


must be made. Would to God that example could have 
been another, and not the man I had loved as a fair¬ 
faced boy sobbing upon my shoulder. 

A squad was called out and obeyed mechanically. 
I committed the condemned man’s soul to God, for 
there was no minister present, and then gave the order 
—and he met his death like the courageous man he 
was. 

The next step was to ascertain the fate of my 
staff, of those on duty, at least. 

As I surmised, I found these officers had been igno- 
miniously shut up in a hut which served as a guard- 
room. 

These gentlemen were presently led forth, and were, 
I think, not a little confounded to find no murdered 
general, lying horrible and mutilated upon the ground, 
but a very much alive and irate commanding officer, 
who, in the privacy of his tent, vented upon their crest¬ 
fallen persons all the fret and strain and bitter stabbing 
pain he was at the moment enduring. 

But for them, he roared, all this would not have 
happened; it was entirely due to their inefficiency, their 
crass stupidity and contemptible vanity, that things had 
come to this pass. 

It would have been with the greatest satisfaction, he 
informed them, that he would have committed them to 
a court martial, with the assurance that they would be 
deprived of the commissions they had so grievously 
misused, but that this course was rendered impossible 


THE FATEFUL NUMBER 


171 


by the promise he had made to his men that Wilde 
should be their scapegoat and the affair be thereafter 
closed. 

It was late that evening when I set off on my return 
ride to Rookherst. I had left the camp quiet and or¬ 
derly, and had no fears of further trouble, for I knew 
the canker had been cut out. I was well acquainted 
with the men I had to deal with, for had I not lived and 
fought in their midst, sat over the camp-fires with them, 
or their like, drunk ale from the same can, studied the 
Scriptures in a circle together, our heads bent over 
the same portion, read by the light of the moon ere we 
turned in for the night? Did I not know their fierce 
enthusiasm, blind obedience, dogged courage, and child¬ 
ish faith in and devotion to a belief or a person? 

I knew my men, and they now knew me and had ac¬ 
cepted me. They were my men, and I would have no 
further difficulty with them. Ebenezer Wilde had not 
died in vain. 


CHAPTER X 


PICARD'S REFLECTIONS 

T HERE was a clear moon overhead as we rode 
back to Rookherst, which was no small bless¬ 
ing, for after the heat of the day a mist had 
risen and lay belly-deep to our horses, and at times, 
when we rode into a dip, the cold white fog immersed 
us altogether and clung damp to our hair. 

I had kept Picard close at my side the whole day, for 
I judged him to be faithful to me for his own interests, 
if for no other, and I knew his quick, educated intel¬ 
ligence would be of service if any new emergency ar¬ 
rived. 

No such demand had arisen, as it turned out, but 
the common strain we had been through had drawn the 
two of us nearer to one another. I felt differently to¬ 
ward the man now, and it was with a momentary for¬ 
getfulness of our curious relations that I remarked 
over my shoulder: 

“That was a near thing.” 

“Yes, a very near thing,” he assented, with a similar 
lapse of memory. “It was entirely due to your ex¬ 
traordinary courage that the situation was saved,” he 
added with conviction. 

172 


PICARD’S REFLECTIONS 


173 


I shrugged my shoulders. 

“1 fail to see what else I could have done in the cir¬ 
cumstances. Any fool about to be murdered would try 
to find a way out of such an unpleasant position. The 
number four hundred and fifty was a wonderful piece 
of luck, if luck one can call an interposition of Provi¬ 
dence such as that undoubtedly was, whereby hundreds 
of brave men’s lives were saved. One shudders to 
think what would have happened if those poor fools 
had gone on with their mad design.” 

“Nevertheless, I repeat you acted with a cool courage 
I have never seen equaled,” insisted my footman with 
sincerity. 

I smiled in the darkness, suddenly remembering how 
we stood. 

“Thank you, Picard; your commendation is most 
gratifying,” I remarked dryly. 

The sarcasm went home. 

“I beg your pardon, sir; I forgot,” he said. 

“Don’t mention it, Picard. I forgot also. It seems 
mighty easy, somehow, to forget our respective posi¬ 
tions. By the way, what opportunities have you had 
for witnessing those feats of courage in comparison 
with which mine shines so conspicuously, Picard? As 
servant to a scientific gentleman of advanced age 
I should have thought such opportunities limited.” 

My footman was unable to make any reply for a mo¬ 
ment or two, the fog having entered his throat, causing 
a paroxysm of coughing. 


174 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

When he appeared easier, I inquired again, in a pleas¬ 
ant tone: 

“Well, Picard, you have not yet answered my ques¬ 
tion.” 

He cleared his throat once more, before speak¬ 
ing. 

“There are sometimes experiences in a man’s life, 
sir, which he would rather were not universally known. 
I admit I have not told you the entire truth about my¬ 
self. I took a—a small part in the Civil War, and 
bought my experience then.” 

“On which side fought you, Picard?” 

“On the beaten side, sir.” 

“I see. Well, I can understand your reticence; but 
many an honest man did the same and is now a loyal 
citizen of the Commonwealth, even as you no doubt 
are. Tell me; Picard: I judge by your address that you 
have come down in the world. Am I right?” 

The man cleared his throat hoarsely again. 

“Yes, sir. I have been unfortunate.” 

“Ah, Picard,” I returned sententiously, “remember 
the saying, ‘Wine is a mocker, and strong drink rag¬ 
ing; whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.’ I fear 
drink has been your undoing.” 

My footman made no comment, but by the jingle of 
his horse’s bridle-chain and the animal’s sudden activity 
I judged he had inadvertently dug his spurs into the 
poor beast. 

We rode on some distance, and my thoughts reverted 


PICARD’S REFLECTIONS 


175 

persistently to the face of Ebenezer Wilde and the 
haunting expression in his eyes. 

“Do you know, Picard,” I burst out suddenly, and 
I saw the man start as I spoke, “that fellow Wilde was 
my closest friend for two years. We were both of us 
in our teens. I was his senior only by a few months. 
For two years we ate and slept, marched and fought 
side by side. A man gets to know another man pretty 
intimately in those qircumstances. We loved each 
other then as brothers, Ebenezer Wilde and I, and now, 
scarcely twelve hours ago, I gave the order for him to 
be shot before my eyes.” 

Picard met my glance. I had reined in my horse for 
him to come alongside. 

“It was your duty, sir,” he replied. 

“Yes, it was my duty, certainly,” I responded. “Do 
you, then, think duty should always override sentiment, 
Picard? I am curious to hear your opinion.” 

My companion stirred uneasily in his saddle. 

“I think there might be exceptions, sir,” he replied 
in a low tone, and with a certain trace of emotion. 
“But, of course, I cannot presume to judge for you.” 

“Of course not. I quite understand that. So you 
think there might be exceptions ? Each case should be 
judged on its own merits, I suppose. As a soldier, un¬ 
fortunately, one’s hands are usually more tied than a 
civilian’s would be.” 

“Quite so, sir, naturally,” responded my Royalist 
footman quietly. 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


176 

We rode on in silence now, each immersed, no doubt, 
in our own train of thought, and it came as a surprise 
to me to find we had almost reached the great gates 
leading into the park of Rookherst estate. The road 
takes a sudden bend here, and, being on a steep de¬ 
cline, it is overhung on one side by a high bank, the 
roadway itself being cut down to ease the gradient. It 
was just as we rode into the shadow of this overhang¬ 
ing bank, preparatory to turning sharply in at the gate 
on our left, that my companion’s horse gave a sudden 
plunge forward, colliding clumsily with my mount, 
crushing my foot and driving my beast with an alarmed 
squeal into the ditch, where it assumed a sitting pos¬ 
ture, resting upon its haunches and pawing the air with 
its front legs—to my extreme discomfort. 

My first natural angry conviction was that this 
meant foul play on the part of Picard, but the next 
instant a shot rang out, which certainly did not origi¬ 
nate with my companion, for I saw him stagger back 
in his saddle, clapping his hand to his head as he fell. 
Happily I was able to catch his horse’s bridle and con¬ 
trol the two frightened beasts while I dismounted. 

The moon was shining out brightly at the time, and 
a rising wind had dispersed the mist, so that every de¬ 
tail of the scene was as clear as noonday. I disen¬ 
tangled my companion’s feet from the stirrups, and 
drew him as gently as I could to the ground. 

One side of his face was covered with blood, but 
a cursory examination gave me hope that it was not 


PICARD’S REFLECTIONS 


177 

a serious wound, the bullet having apparently only 
grazed his scalp; an inch more and he would have 
been a dead man. 

He was fully conscious, and met my eyes with a 
faint smile in his. 

“It is all right, sir, I think, is n’t it ? I am not 
killed, am I?” 

I returned his smile. “No, I am glad to say you 
are not. It is only a flesh wound, as far as I can see— 
a deep scratch. But can you tell me what happened?” 
I added, glancing round the deserted roadway in a 
puzzled manner. “Where did that shot come from?” 

“From up above us, sir. I happened to glance up 
as we turned the corner, and in the moonlight I saw 
as plainly as possible a fellow with a gun aimed at— 
at the road.” 

“Aimed at the road?” I repeated laconically. “Well, 
he missed his mark then, in spite of a fair-sized target. 
Did you see his face? Can you describe him?” 

“I saw him perfectly plain. A dark, lantern-jawed 
fellow with a very pale face and great black eyes. He 
had a curiously long countenance.” 

The description brought Job Forster forcibly to my 
mind. 

“Then I think, Picard,” I said quietly, “I owe you 
my life. That bullet was meant for my head, not 
yours, or the road.” 

“I thought it might be,” he replied thoughtfully. 
“The man looked murder.” 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


178 

I had bound up his head as best I could by now, 
and with my assistance he was able to remount his 
horse, swaying rather dizzily, however, in his seat. 

“Look here, man,” I said peremptorily, “put your 
arm upon my shoulder, thus, and I will put mine round 
you so; that will keep you steadier. We have not far 
to go, luckily.” 

“That fellow,” I explained, as we made our slow 
progress, “was the former footman here. I discharged 
him for misconduct and unwisely let him go with a 
warning only. You stepped into his shoes, Picard. 
It does not, it seems, pay to be too merciful, gratitude 
being a rare virtue. What do you think, Picard?” 

He met my glance again this time with a whimsical 
smile, though his face was pale with suffering. 

“I think, sir, that my opinion is really not worth 
having, but, as you ask it, my experience is that grati¬ 
tude is not so rare as you think, and is to be met with 
in unexpected quarters. It is worth while being merci¬ 
ful on the chance, anyway.” 

“Perhaps,” I replied, “but in this particular instance 
I nearly paid heavily for my gamble. As I said be¬ 
fore, you saved my life, which means, by the way, that 
the gratitude must be on my side. You must let me 
know what I can do for you, Picard, when you are 
recovered enough to think on it.” 

“Thank you, sir. It is very good of you, sir,” he 
replied, for all the world like a perfectly trained serv¬ 
ant. 


PICARD’S REFLECTIONS 


179 

I admired the man but devoutly wished he was safely 
off my hands. It was principally in order to accom¬ 
plish this object that I had invited Captain Lovet to 
Rookherst. With any luck I should be able to shift 
the responsibility on to that gallant officer. 

We had hardly entered the avenue before we were 
met by a party of men hurrying from the house, headed 
by Masterman himself. 

By the flickering, swaying lights of the lanterns I 
could see the steward’s face was pale and his expres¬ 
sion strained and anxious. 

“Thank God, sir, you are safe,” he exclaimed, and 
the sincerity of his tone touched me considerably. 
“We have been out in all directions, searching for you, 
and the sound of that shot filled me with misgiving. 
My lady has been in a terrible state of mind about your 
safety, sir,” he added significantly. 

“Poor Masterman! Loyal soul,” I thought to my¬ 
self. “He wishes, at least, to make things appear well 
outwardly before the servants.” Aloud I replied: 

“Thank you, Masterman, for your concern. I am 
all right myself, but, as you see, Picard has been a bit 
damaged. Get a couple of men to help him to the 
house and put him to bed. I will explain what has 
occurred as we walk back.” 

My lady met me at the entrance to the big hall. 

Masterman was just behind me as I entered, and I 
saw my lady’s glance pass from one to the other of us 
anxiously, questioningly; then the steward went on 


i8o 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


his unobtrusive way, and I was left alone with my wife. 

“I am so glad you have come back safely,” she fal¬ 
tered, her color changing painfully. “I was beginning 
to feel so anxious, and I hardly knew what to think 
when I heard that shot.” 

Had I not been undeceived so recently my pulses 
would have quickened considerably more than they did 
as I looked into her eyes at that moment. I could have 
sworn she had been crying. 

“I am truly sorry, madam,” I said somewhat coolly, 
“to have been the cause of any anxiety to you. As 
a matter of fact, I have had a narrow escape, but the 
bullet that was intended for me shot Picard.” 

I regretted my brutality immediately, for her cheeks 
blanched in an instant, and with a little cry she re¬ 
coiled a step. 

“Shot him! Do you mean he is dead?” 

“No, not dead—not even in danger of dying. Mer¬ 
cifully, the bullet only grazed his scalp. I must say,” 
I went on, with the desire to make conversation, and 
thereby give her opportunity for recovering her com¬ 
posure, “I must say that man Picard is about the most 
unfortunate individual I have ever come across. He 
seems positively to attract bullets and combustions to 
himself like a magnet. By all the laws of nature he 
should be a dead man by now.” 

With an odd little inarticulate sound my lady ab¬ 
ruptly sank into a chair. I saw a spasm pass over her 
face; she made what appeared to be a violent effort to 


PICARD’S REFLECTIONS 


181 

control herself, but unavailingly, for the next instant 
she was rocking to and fro in a paroxysm of helpless, 
hysterical laughter. 

I stared at her, dumfounded, and I suppose my 
amazed expression only served to provoke her further, 
for she pressed a handkerchief to her streaming eyes, 
exclaiming in a muffled voice: 

“Don’t—please don’t look at me like that. I can’t 
help myself. It is horrible—incredible that I should 
laugh like this at—at—such an awful tragedy. It 
must be the strain of it all—or else I am going mad.” 

With which strange words she abruptly sprang to 
her feet and literally fled from my presence. 


CHAPTER XI 


CAPTAIN LOVETTS VISIT 

T HE day following the preceding incidents 
brought my messenger back from Hamp¬ 
shire with a reply from Captain Lovet to the 
effect that he would be happy to avail himself of my 
invitation and would lose no time in visiting us at 
Rookherst. The same day also saw the capture of 
my old enemy, Job Forster. 

I had formed the men of the camp at Godstone into 
search-parties, instead of putting them all in detention, 
as was clearly my duty; but the effect was healthful, 
and, judging by the boyish enthusiasm with which 
they set to work and their triumph in catching my 
would-be murderer, no one would have conceived that 
twenty-four hours previously they had themselves to 
a man been bent upon my destruction. 

Within a few months Job Forster was engaged in 
growing tobacco in the West Indies by the side of 
many a better man than he, and I was troubled with 
him no more. 

My soldier-servant, Saunders, had happily taken a 
turn for the better, but the fever h^d left him weak, 

182 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 183 

and as he was still confined to his room, I visited him 
occasionally to see how he fared. Upon one of these 
visits I paused before entering his room, because I 
could hear that he was engaged in prayer. It was from 
no delicacy of feeling that I hesitated on the threshold, 
for Saunders, like other martial saints of his type, 
would have felt no shyness about praying aloud in my 
presence. 

Throughout his campaigning experiences he had 
been accustomed to take part in camp prayer-meetings, 
where he and his companions would in turn, or simul¬ 
taneously, pour out their souls in fervent, passionate 
prayer, irrespective of their rank or social standing, 
officer and non-commissioned officer and ranker all to¬ 
gether, bareheaded, in the presence of God, and this 
in the most disciplined army in the world. It was a 
religious age we lived in and, far from hiding our be¬ 
liefs, we were too apt to parade them with a baldness 
and lack of reserve which gave an opportunity to the 
scoffer to caricature and to the hypocrite to counterfeit. 

It was therefore not the fact that my servant was 
praying aloud that made me pause, but the substance 
of that prayer, as it reached me through the closed 
door. 

“Lord, give light to Thy servant; let him not be daz¬ 
zled by the light of a woman’s eyes. Guide Thy serv¬ 
ant in that plain path where the wayfarer though a 
fool shall not err, and let me not be enticed by the lust 
of the flesh. This woman is fair, Lord, but I fear me 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


184 

she is worldly; show me Thy will; shall I love her, or 
shall I forbear?” 

Poor Saunders was clearly in trouble, the same old 
trouble that I was familiar with, and I could feel for 
him. My curiosity was roused, however, so I opened 
the door and walked in: I found my stalwart man¬ 
servant upon his knees beside the low bedstead, and as 
he raised his face I saw it was pale with physical fa¬ 
tigue and mental strain. 

“Come, come, Saunders,” I said, shaking him gently 
by the shoulder, “you will soon be beyond the entice¬ 
ments of any feminine charms, if you do not get back 
to bed. You have got the fever on you again, man.” 

Obediently he got back into his bed, showing no re¬ 
sentment or confusion at my words. 

“Well,” I continued, seating myself at the bottom 
of his couch, “who is the lady, Saunders?” 

“Privet Joy, sir. My Lady Rosamond’s maid,” he 
replied, without hesitation, but in a hopeless sort of 
tone. 

“Ah, yes, a pretty creature—but, I fear, a bit of a 
minx, Saunders,” I said thoughtfully. “How far has 
the matter gone?” 

“I am asking God’s guidance, sir,” he replied eva¬ 
sively. 

“Then you have not fallen in love with the lady 
yet ?” 

“Yes, I have,” he blurted out vehemently. 

“Then, man, why don’t you ask her?” I suggested. 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 185 

“I have asked her, and she has rejected me,” he re¬ 
plied with dogged honesty. 

I checked an inclination to laugh. 

“Well, it seems to me you are a bit late in invoking 
guidance of the Almighty,” I commented mildly. 
“But possibly God has done the guiding already by 
blocking the way.” 

Saunders made no reply, but did not look exactly 
resigned. 

I felt sorry for him. 

“You know, Saunders,” I said, “I do not think she 
would have made you happy.” 

“No, I am sure she would not , sir,” he agreed with 
surprising emphasis. 

“You appear to speak with conviction on that point, 
man. What reason have you for that view ?” I asked 
curiously. 

“She is a false woman, sir, double-tongued and 
treacherous.” 

I raised my eyebrows. 

“Marry! you do not mince your words. What has 
she done to deserve such scathing criticism?” 

“She lied to me, sir. I saw her passing a letter to 
that new man, Picard, and another time they met after 
dark by the moat, and I happed upon them on my re¬ 
turn from seeing to your horse late one evening. 
Both incidents she denied when I taxed her with carry¬ 
ing on with Picard. She is an untruthful woman— 
and yet, God forgive me, I love her.” 


i86 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“She is an untruthful woman—and yet I love her,” 
came an echo, as it were, from my own heart. My 
man and I, little as he guessed it, were brothers in 
calamity. 

“What explanation can you give for her conduct, 
Saunders?” I asked with interest. 

My honest servant shook his head miserably. 
“None, sir, unless she has put herself into the power 
of that son of Belial.” 

“Do you mean Picard, the footman?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Why, he appears to me to be a harmless, well- 
behaved person,” I said. 

“Harmless, sir! When he bears the mark of Cain 
upon him! A murderer he is. A murderer in dis¬ 
guise.” 

“Heavens, man!” I ejaculated. “Whom has he mur¬ 
dered? Tell me what you know, and I will have him 
laid up by the heels at once.” 

The jealous lover caught the twinkle in my eye and 
looked crestfallen. 

“That I cannot say, sir, but it is as plain as can be 
that he has the mark of Cain upon his forehead,” he 
replied sulkily. 

“Well, I never heard that Cain had his eyebrows 
scorched off, but of course it may have been so,” I 
commented. “Only, it might be as well for you to 
remember, Saunders, that the mark put upon Cain was 
for his protection, lest any over-virtuous person took 


CAPTAIN LOVETS VISIT 187 

it upon himself to avenge his crime. Now, look you 
here, man: brooding is unhealthy for any one. If it 
is a fine day to-morrow, and you have no fever upon 
you, I would have you take a letter to my cousin. The 
walk will do you good, and you will find my cousin, 
Mistress Matilda Sefton, at my mother’s cottage. No 
one can make girdle-cakes like my cousin. Do not 
hurry back, but take your time and enjoy the girdle- 
cakes and fresh honey with which she will regale you. 
There is nothing like fresh honey for enlightening the 
eyes of a man. You remember Jonathan of old.” 

I had a double purpose in sending the honest fellow 
on this errand. My cousin Matilda was now installed 
at my mother’s cottage, and was the greatest blessing 
to my dear old mother, and, knowing how full of 
womanly sympathy she was, I informed her in my let¬ 
ter exactly how things were with honest Saunders, for 
at the back of my mind was the possibility that, pity 
being akin, they say, to love, more might develop here¬ 
after; for Saunders, with his great loving heart and 
simple, upright nature, would be just the mate for 
Matilda, and he was enough of a viking in appearance 
to attract any woman. In the meantime, this conver¬ 
sation had given me food for further thought. Evi¬ 
dently, then, the little bright-eyed minx of a lady’s maid 
was also in the plot. Well, she looked as if she would 
revel in any intrigue. 

Before many more hours had passed, however, I hcd 
Other concerns, and more intimate, to occupy my 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


188 

thoughts, for Captain Lovet arrived in due course on 
his arranged visit. 

Our greeting of one another was constrained on his 
side and somewhat cool on mine. Secretly, neverthe¬ 
less, I experienced a return of that attraction I had 
felt toward him the first time I met him. There was 
something uncommonly winning about his personality 
—a straight, manly look and total unconsciousness of 
his personal comeliness, although he was without doubt 
an extremely handsome man. Dark, like his father, 
he had my lady’s regular features on a large scale, 
coupled with a finely proportioned figure full of natu¬ 
ral grace and vigor. 

By tacit understanding we both treated his visit as 
an ordinary exchange of courtesy between relatives, 
each carefully hiding his mind from the other until 
we could feel our way. 

With my lady, however, it was different. She made 
no pretense about hiding her feelings—and the spon¬ 
taneous gladness and unaffected warmth of her greet¬ 
ing of her cousin made me pause in doubt as to my 
wisdom in having given the invitation; not for her 
sake, for her welcome was too natural and familiar to 
rouse misgiving, but on his account, knowing as I be¬ 
lieved I did his feelings toward her. 

However, it was too late now to alter the situation, 
and I could only withdraw, as it were, a little to watch 
developments, and that unconsciously became my posi- 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 


189 

tion hereafter. I found myself, all against my will, an 
onlooker, closely observing, deeply concerned, but still 
only an onlooker at a drama acted by these two unfor¬ 
tunate persons, placed by fate as much as by any fault 
of their own in a totally false position. 

The first evening passed off pleasantly and harm¬ 
lessly enough outwardly. 

My lady seemed to throw off all her depression and 
hysterical tendencies, and I saw her in quite a different 
light from any in which I had yet known her. 

Gay, inconsequential, merry as a child, she laughed 
aloud at the slightest provocation; her dimple was con¬ 
stantly in play, her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed, 
and altogether she appeared the incarnation of light¬ 
hearted youth. 

In responding to her sallies, and in laying himself 
out with the obvious desire to encourage them, her 
cousin too appeared in an unfamiliar guise, and seemed 
to have dropped at least ten years of his age. 

At my suggestion we had music in the evening, and 
I ordered all the candles in the mighty candelabrum to 
be lit, making something of a gala scene in the large 
hall. Masterman even seemed to be infected by the 
atmosphere of festivity, and I saw a pleased smile upon 
his usually grave lips as he supervised the lighting of 
the candles. 

My lady sang some pretty ballads and played with 
feeling upon the lute, and then, at her earnest desire, 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


190 

her cousin himself sat down at the virginal and, after 
playing a few bars, sang to his own accompaniment. 

He possessed one of those rare voices which have 
the power to stir the emotions of men as well as 
women; a voice deep with feeling and at the same time 
full of virile force, not mere mawkish sentiment. 

I had never had the opportunity for learning to play 
any instrument, and my own voice was not only un¬ 
trained but untuneful. It was a serviceable enough 
voice for giving orders to my men, but for the drawing¬ 
room I was often conscious it lacked that grace 
and culture which comes of breeding and education. 

I was not a gentleman, and I was never more 
aware of that fact than that evening, as I stood lean¬ 
ing up against the carved fireplace, listening to the rich 
barytone voice and watching my lady as she sat a few 
paces from me, her hair shining like burnished gold 
beneath the candles, and her beautiful face turned in 
rapt attention toward the singer. 

In the intervals of the music my lady and her cousin 
discussed the merits of the songs, interchanging their 
ideas with the enthusiasm and assurance born of 
knowledge and judgment, while I remained a silent 
listener. I had no opinion to offer; my preference for 
this or that piece was merely the uneducated fancy of 
the savage. I was outside the magic circle, an out¬ 
sider altogether, in fact. With a certain grim humor 
I reflected that though I stood there the legal owner of 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 


1 9 I 

that beautiful hall, I was really an interloper, having 
neither part nor parcel in it. The hall, with its carved 
oak, great tapestry hangings, armorial bearings, and 
stained-glass, stood for those generations of noble 
knights and ladies whose portraits hung in the gallery 
above. There was no Peter Williams among them. 

My lady may have read some hint of these reflec¬ 
tions in my expression when she happened to turn to 
find my gaze fixed somewhat somberly upon her. 

The vivacity died out of her face and a strangely 
troubled look took its place, as though my presence had 
recalled a disturbing memory which had momentarily 
lapsed. I felt grimly sorry for both her and myself. 

Soon after that she indicated her desire to retire 
for the night, and, as was my invariable custom, I pre¬ 
pared to light her to her room. While she was bidding 
her cousin good night, Picard entered the hall to re¬ 
move a tray of wine and fruit with which we had re¬ 
galed ourselves. Neither of my companions paid him 
the slightest attention, which was natural, but, as my 
lady and I ascended the staircase and were about to 
round the bend at the little landing, I purposely glanced 
back into the hall, and perceived my guest and my foot¬ 
man both gazing thoughtfully and curiously after our 
retreating forms, and the tray in my footman’s hands 
was held at a precarious angle. 

My lady did not look back nor did she raise her eyes 
to mine when she gave me her hand in her customary 


192 


MY LADY'S BARGAIN 

1 

manner to kiss, but I noticed that her hand burned like 
fire as it lay in my palm. 

“Good night, my Lady Rosamond,” I said gravely, 
little dreaming that this was to be the last time I should 
repeat those words. 

Upon returning to the hall, I offered my guest a 
pipe, which he refused. I, however, filled one for my¬ 
self, for I have found the weed a help to consecutive 
thought, and I had a ticklish problem to solve. 

We sat for some little time in silence, which I broke 
by inquiring: 

“How is Lady Lovet, your mother ? I hope she has 
recovered from her late indisposition, sir?” 

“Thank you, sir, for inquiring,” he replied. “My 
mother is not at all well, I regret to say. She has had 
cause for worry and anxiety lately.” 

I glanced at him through the tobacco smoke. 

“In connection with a certain family matter, may 
I suggest?” said I. 

He returned my look steadily. 

“Yes, sir. My mother is much troubled on my 
cousin, Lady Rosamond’s account, and regrets, as we 
all do, that she was called upon to act in the matter 
at all.” 

I nodded. 

“It does appear to have been regrettable,” I ac¬ 
quiesced coolly, “especially as it entailed a certain 
amount of deception. Any lying that was necessary 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 


193 

should, in my opinion, have been done by you; but that 
view may be only my limited and uneducated out¬ 
look.” 

My guest turned a brick-red. 

“I should deem that an insult demanding redress, 
sir,” he exclaimed in a suppressed tone, “were it 
not . . 

“Were it not that it was irrefutable,” I interpolated 
ca 1 . A) 

He strangled his rising temper with an obvious effort 
of will. 

“You are right. I will admit it,” he said after a 
moment’s pause. “If you will allow me, sir, I will try 
and be as frank as I can, though the situation, being a 
peculiarly delicate one, is correspondingly difficult to 
handle. We all deeply regret, sir, that your wife was 
called upon to take any action in this matter. It was 
not fair upon her, or just to you, but the fact is that 
we, as a family, have been greatly handicapped by the 
present political situation. My father, as you are 
aware, and I are both loyal republicans. I hold a 
commission in the army, and have always, I believe, 
tried to hold it worthily. My father took sides with 
the Parliament in the great quarrel, against all his 
wordly interests, as far as could be seen at the time, 
and in opposition to all his family’s wishes and sym¬ 
pathies. In spite of this, we are under the suspicion 
of the present Government and the victims of an irri- 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


194 

tating espionage. Our correspondence is examined, 
our private concerns inquired into, and we have reason 
to suspect even that a spy has been placed among 
our household to pry into our privacy. It is intoler¬ 
able, and enough to loosen the attachment of the most 
sincere supporter of his Highness the protector. My 
father has complained in person, only to have the mat¬ 
ter pooh-poohed and denied. In the circumstances, 
you can understand, it is extremely difficult forms to 
ask any favor of the Government, such as a license to 
travel abroad.” 

“So you judged it would be easier for your cousin 
to obtain the necessary facilities by duping her infat¬ 
uated husband,” I commented. 

He clenched his fingers with nervous force upon 
the arms of his chair. 

“For heaven’s sake, do not provoke me too far, sir,” 
he exclaimed hoarsely. 

“Well, a duel might simplify matters, after all,” I 
retorted. “If I got killed, you could, no doubt, marry 
my widow. I cannot for the life of me understand 
why you did not demand her hand before, as the re¬ 
ward for your services. It would have been far more 
suitable, from every point of view.” 

Captain Lovet leaned forward abruptly in his chair, 
and scanned my face closely, fiercely, as though he 
would pierce through my outward man to the soul of 
me within. 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 


195 

“You do not regret your marriage?” he demanded, 
almost beneath his bfeath. 

“Wholly and entirely,” I replied, without hesitation 
leaning back in my chair. 

He raised his clenched fist as though he meant to 
strike me full in the face, and I watched him inter¬ 
estedly, without moving. His arm dropped to his 
side. 

“Good Lord!” he muttered softly, and then again, 
“good Lord!” 

There followed a long pause; then: 

“How long have you felt like this?” he demanded 
at length in an altered tone. 

“Like what?” I asked with interest. 

“How long is it since you have desired your freedom 
from this—this union?” 

“I do not recollect ever saying I desired my free¬ 
dom,” I replied mildly. 

“Well, you implied your marriage was a mistake.” 
He corrected himself with impatience. 

“Yes, I think it was—a regrettable mistake.” 

“Since when, I ask, have you thought so?” 

“I do not know that I can supply you with the ex¬ 
act hour or day, Captain Lovet,” I replied evenly, “and 
I do not see that it is quite your concern, either. I 
suggest that we change the subject before either of us 
says anything foolish. I suppose you do not happen 
to require a footman?” 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


196 

My companion’s expression of thunderstruck be¬ 
wilderment was comical. 

“A footman?” he repeated. “No, I do not think I 
do. Why do you ask?” 

“Only because I happen to have one to spare,” I 
replied, puffing at my pipe and obtaining much com¬ 
fort therefrom. “You may have noticed him—the 
man who assisted Masterman. I believe he is an ex¬ 
cellent servant, and Masterman speaks most highly of 
him.” 

“Why do you want to part with him, in that case?” 
inquired my guest, eying me doubtfully. 

“Well, to be truthful, I have an unreasonable pref¬ 
erence for servants with eyebrows and lashes com¬ 
plete. This poor fellow, as you no doubt observed, 
has accidentally lost his, and I cannot get accustomed 
to their absence. It came about through some chemical 
explosion, I understand, though, between you and me, 
I have reason to fear he has suffered from intem¬ 
perance, for I taxed him with it, and he did not deny 
it. How often is this the cause of a man’s social 
downfall! I should not be at all surprised to hear 
that Picard was your equal socially, Captain Lovet, 
and that, had it not been for strong drink, he might 
even be standing in his present master’s place. Such 
are the curious vicissitudes of life!” 

My sententious reflections were received in perfect 
silence by my companion, and glancing at him care- 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 


197 

lessly I was surprised to observe that he appeared to be 
laboring under some powerful emotion. His dark 
face had a sickly pallor, and he had rolled his hand¬ 
kerchief into a ball, which he pressed nervously into 
the palms of his hands, as though they felt clammy. 

I appeared not to observe his agitation, and he pres¬ 
ently remarked, quietly enough: 

“Poor fellow! What you say interests me, but I 
fear I cannot engage him—at present, at any rate.” 

Soon after that we parted for the night. 

The next morning, before starting off on my mil¬ 
itary duties, I had an interesting conversation with 
Masterman. 

“Picard seems to be nearly recovered from his re¬ 
cent wound, Masterman,” I began carelessly. 

“Yes, sir; he seems to be quite himself.” 

“Quite himself?” I repeated thoughtfully. “No, I 
should not say he was quite that yet”; adding in my 
mind, “I wish to goodness I knew who he was.” 
“Well, Masterman,” I continued aloud, “as I men¬ 
tioned to you before, I have a wish to reward the man 
for the service he did me. He undoubtedly saved my 
life that night, at the risk of his own. Did you ascer¬ 
tain from him what shape the reward should take? I 
suppose a sum of money would be the most acceptable 
form ?” 

Masterman met my glance with perfect composure. 

“I did ask him, sir, and, as a matter of fact, the 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


198 

suggestion he made, after a good deal of hesitation, 
was rather a strange one. He showed a good deal of 
diffidence in making it, as I think indeed he should, 
seeing that it smacks of ingratitude, to my mind, 
having so comfortable a situation. He is partly 
French, you know, sir, and it seems he has a great de¬ 
sire to return to his native land and settle there per¬ 
manently.” 

“Ah, yes. I recollect he spoke something in like 
strain to me,” I commented thoughtfully. “You 
mean, he desires me to give him permission to 
leave my service and obtain a license for him to 
travel?” 

“Yes, sir, precisely,” said Masterman, looking me 
straight in the eyes without a shadow of disquietude 
in his. 

“He has a wife living in France, I understand,” I 
went on. 

Masterman for a moment seemed taken aback. 

“Not in France, I think, sir. His wife is in Eng¬ 
land and wishes to voyage with him.” 

“Oh, is that so?” said I. “Then the license is to 
include a woman?” 

“I suppose so, sir, as she wishes to rejoin him.” 

“Sad how drink will ruin the happiest of homes, 
Masterman,” 1 philosophized ponderously. 

“Drink, sir?” queried my steward, raising his 
eyebrows, 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 


11 99 


“Yes, strong liquor. Has Picard never taken you 
into his confidence, then?” 

“No, sir; at least, not in that particular, sir. Did 
he admit he was addicted to drink, sir?'” 

‘ C I taxed him with it, and he had the grace, at any 
rate, not to deny it,” I replied solemnly. 

“Very sad, sir, if that is the case,” assented my 
steward. “He has shown no signs of the weakness 
while here.” 

“Your good influence has no doubt kept him 
straight, Masterman,” I replied commendingly. 

“Thank you, sir. What shall I say to Picard, sir, 
with regard to the matter we were speaking of pre¬ 
viously?” 

“You may tell him that as I am a strong supporter 
of happy marital relations, being so blissfully situated 
myself, I will endeavor to obtain for him and his wife 
the necessary forms to enable them to cross over to 
France and set up a united home there. I will see 
about the matter on my return to-night, and send off 
the letter by the next post.” 

“Thank you, sir. I am sure he ought to be 
grateful.” 

“Oh, I do not expect much gratitude; but you must 
get another footman, Masterman, to take his place, and 
this time see to it that he has the requisite amount of 
hair on his face, and I should prefer it of a more or¬ 
dinary shade. I do not think I like auburn hair. By 


200 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


the way, Masterman, one other thing. It might be as 
well to give Picard a word of warning that, as a mar¬ 
ried man, it is not seemly to ‘carry on’ with other 
young women.” 

Masterman looked genuinely astonished now. 

“ ‘To carry on,’ sir? What do you mean, sir?” 

“I mean what is generally meant by ‘carrying on,’ ” 
I replied. 

“I am afraid I do not quite understand, sir.” 

“What, in your experience, is usually meant by car¬ 
rying on with a young woman, Masterman?” I in¬ 
quired guilelessly. 

“I have had no experience of that sort of thing, sir,” 
retorted my steward, with some stiffness, but I thought 
I detected a twinkle at the back of his eyes. 

“Well, then, I mean the* sort of thing you have had 
no experience of. Holding a young woman’s hand in 
dark corners, and exchanging billets-doux .” 

“I understand, sir, but has Picard been doing this, 
sir?” 

“I have been informed he has.” 

“Who was the young woman, sir, if I may inquire?” 

“My lady’s maid, Privet Joy,” said I sternly. “And 
see you here, Masterman, she is too innocent and sim¬ 
ple a creature to be played with in this way, so I would 
have you warn Picard, and threaten him that if he is 
caught philandering again I will cancel my promised 
favor.” 


CAPTAIN LOVET’S VISIT 


201 


“Yes, sir. Most certainly. I am surprised to hear 
what you say, sir. I will speak to Picard on the 
matter.” 

I turned away to mount my horse, with a faint smile 
of amusement on my lips. I knew Masterman had wit 
enough to appreciate the humor of the situation, even 
though he might be at a loss to discover exactly how 
much of the farce was known to me and to what length 
I was prepared to go with it. 

Little desire had I to smile again ere the day was 
over, however. Farce did I call it, then? Rather 
was it a drama steeped in tragic consequences to my¬ 
self. 


CHAPTER XII 


A QUESTION OF SINCERITY 

I T is strange and awe-inspiring how the veriest 
trifle may affect a man’s whole life and com¬ 
pletely alter the course for weal or woe. Such 
an incident occurred on the very morning of my con¬ 
versation with Masterman. 

I rode out of the gates of Rookherst with a smile 
upon my lips—not a joyous smile, certainly, but one 
of amused appreciation of what then appeared to me 
to be a farcical situation. Within a mile or two 
of the gates my horse cast a shoe. There was 
no forge immediately at hand, and so I dismounted 
to let Saunders lead my animal to the nearest smithy 
at a village half a mile away, and to pass the time 
I strolled down a sandy lane out upon a common. 

The track proceeded steeply up the side of a 
heather-clad knoll, from the summit of which I ob¬ 
tained a wide view upon all sides. It was a warm, 
sunny morning at the end of August, and I stretched 
myself full-length upon the tufty heather, gazing idly 
down upon the winding road below me. It was an 

unfrequented neighborhood at all times, and, being 

202 


A QUESTION OF SINCERITY 203 

also early as yet, there was no sign of life visible at 
first. 

I had not lain there for more than a few minutes, 
however, before two riders came into sight round a 
bend. They were approaching leisurely, and my pulses 
quickened as I scanned the lines of their figures. 
There was no mistaking the graceful carriage of my 
lady, and her cousin, with his fine figure and easy 
seat, formed a fit escort and completion to the pic¬ 
ture. 

There was nothing to invite censure in their being 
out riding together. My lady had a liking for horse 
exercise before the sun was up in his full heat, and I 
had frequently been her companion on such rides as 
this. It was quite natural that her relative should 
be her escort in my absence. I had no right to carp 
at that, nor did I, but I had nevertheless some excuse 
for my eyes narrowing jealously as I watched them 
from my unseen point of vantage, for they rode at 
a walking pace, side by side, their heads bent near one 
another as those in confidential and earnest talk; and 
even as they came immediately beneath the steep bank 
upon which I lay they suddenly pulled rein, and I 
saw my lady bow her face upon her hands as though 
she wept. 

When a beautiful woman weeps and a man who 
loves her is alone with her, who can blame him if he 
acts unwisely? Captain Lovet only did what nine out 


204 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


of ten men would have done in his position. He 
stooped forward quickly and flung his arm around her 
shoulders. He did not kiss her then; I gave him 
full credit for that even in the midst of my furious 
jealousy. 

He did not kiss her until she deliberately turned 
her face to him and raised her lips to his. 

They rode on side by side, and I—God forgive 
me my sin—I cursed them and swore to be revenged. 

So this was my peerless lady, the dream I had 
worshiped for all these solitary years, the woman I 
had loved for the last two burning months, the wife 
whose lofty standards of duty and honor I had revered 
and whose love I had hoped and yearned for. 

Half an hour later I was continuing on my way, 
and I have no doubt the evil spirit which possesssed 
me gave evidence of himself in my face, for even 
the faithful Saunders looked at me askance and fell 
back to a discreet distance in my rear. 

At camp all those that could fled before my ugly 
temper, and the unfortunates who were obliged by 
duty to remain in my presence quailed miserably be¬ 
neath the cruel lash of my tongue, and the diabolical 
desire which possesssed me to inflict torture in some 
form or another upon some other human being, with 
the object of seeing some one else as wretched as I 
was myself. 

t With an unreasonable contrariness, however, one 


A QUESTION OF SINCERITY 205 

of the first things I did that morning was to draft 
a letter to Mr. Secretary Thurloe, desiring him as a 
personal favor to send me a license permitting my 
footman and his wife to leave England with the object 
of residing in France. 

This request I forwarded with other official des¬ 
patches to London by a special messenger, little think¬ 
ing that by this one act of seeming generosity I was 
sealing my own fate. 

I returned unusually late to Rookherst. I had pur¬ 
posely sent Saunders on in advance to inform Master- 
man that I would not be back in time for supper and 
to carry my formal apologies to Lady Rosamond and 
her cousin. I felt nothing would induce me to eat at 
the same table with them that day. 

When I entered the hall I found it deserted, but 
there was a letter awaiting me, heavily secured with 
government seals. 

Upon opening it I found it contained a command 
from headquarters to report myself at Whitehall 
without delay in order to answer certain charges made 
against my military administration, to the effect that 
there had been shown culpable laxity in permitting 
strangers and uncertified persons to pass through and 
reside in the district under my command, without the 
precaution of detaining them for inquiry, thereby 
endangering the safety of the state, which required, 
in the present perilous times, that all suspicious or 


20 6 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


unknown characters should be apprehended and ex¬ 
amined as to their identity and business. 

It amounted to a sharp reprimand, and I was grimly 
perusing the document for the second time when my 
lady entered the hall. 

She approached me timidly, and I saw her glance 
from the letter in my hand to my face with a quick, 
anxious scrutiny. 

“Have you had bad news, sir?” she inquired 
gently. 

“That depends upon the point of view, madam,” 
I replied coolly. “I fancy yours and mine differ, so 
you had best judge for yourself.” 

I handed her the letter, and she read it through 
with slightly knitted brows and absorbed atten¬ 
tion. 

Then, raising her head quickly, she exclaimed with 
apparently the impulsiveness of a child: 

“Oh, these things do fill me with indignation. Not 
a week passes but some poor wretch is apprehended 
and cast into a filthy prison or shipped off to the to¬ 
bacco islands, there to slave in the hot sun beneath the 
brutal lash of the man who has bought him. I would 
like to cry shame upon the lord protector for these 
wicked doings. People complained of the arbitrary 
rule of the late king, but this rule is far more arbi¬ 
trary. We are beneath a tyranny undreamed of be¬ 
fore. The lord protector dare not use a jury for 


A QUESTION OF SINCERITY 207 

judging these men who oppose him, for he knows no 
jury would convict them, and if any counsel be got 
brave enough to defend a case he is put away into a 
dungeon until such time as the cold and solitude have 
damped his ardor for truth and chilled the courage 
of his convictions. Indeed, sir, I think you are 
right noble to have done as I see you have by this 
letter.” 

“Thank you, madam,” I replied unpleasantly. “It 
is gratifying to know that you realize so fully what a 
noble husband you have, and therefore how fortu¬ 
nately situated you are.” 

She gave me a reproachful look and the light of en¬ 
thusiasm died out of her face, leaving it strangely pale. 

“You are pleased to gibe, sir,” she said, with a cer¬ 
tain appeal in her tone, “whereas I spoke in all sin¬ 
cerity.” 

“Since when have you spoken or acted in all sincer¬ 
ity, madam, in regard to myself?” I demanded omi¬ 
nously, the demon within me gradually mastering my 
better self. 

She drew back a little from me as though in in¬ 
stinctive alarm. Yet her eyes met mine courageously. 

“Perhaps you will explain yourself, sir ?” 

“Certainly I will endeavor to do so, my Lady. Tell 
me, which was the most sincere, the kiss you gave me 
up in that room yonder, or the one you gave your 
cousin out upon the common this morning?” 


208 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


She looked as though I had struck her, and there 
was now no doubt about the fear—abject, startled, 
overwhelming fear—in her eyes. 

There came a sound of footsteps 'approaching along 
the gallery upstairs. With a convulsive movement 
she actually clasped her hands upon my arm. 

“For God’s sake do not say any more just now; do 
not speak of this before him, if it is he coming.” 

“You need not agitate yourself unduly, madam,” 
I said cruelly. “I should be no match for Captain 
Lovet in a duel. You need only recall the fact that 
your late footman and I fought our battles with bare 
fists, as village louts would naturally do, to realize 
that I should have no chance against a trained and ex¬ 
perienced fencer such as a gentleman by birth invari¬ 
ably is. I am not a gentleman by birth, instinct, or 
training, which must be my excuse for not under¬ 
standing your standards and for treating you accord¬ 
ing to mine, as I intend. I have had enough of this 
fooling.” 

She gave a little gasp. 

“I swear you are mistaken,” she said faintly. 

“Mistaken! Then I must suffer from halluci¬ 
nation. Do you deny you kissed Captain Lovet upon 
the common this morning, madam?” 

“No, I do not deny it—but—” 

“But, no doubt, it was only a sisterly kiss,” I 
sneered. 


A QUESTION OF SINCERITY 209 

She made an odd little sound; whether it was a 
laugh or a sob only her recording angel could decide. 

“Yes, I meant it only as such,” she faltered. 

“Then I would ask you a further question. Please 
try and answer it truthfully, if you are capable of so 
doing. Are you aware that Captain Lovet loves you ?” 

She met my glance with sudden anger in hers. 

“Yes, I do know, sir. He has loved me for as many 
years and more than you have, and with, a more stable 
affection, it would seem.” 

“That may be,” said I deliberately. “There are 
men who continue to love after being fooled, and your 
cousin is apparently one of them. But that, to my 
uncultured mind, appears to give the less excuse to 
your conduct, madam.” 

She flushed hotly beneath my unswerving gaze. 

“He understands,” she muttered rather helplessly. 
“You do not.” 

“No, I confess I do not. The situation seems to 
me liable to misunderstanding. You are aware of the 
fact that your cousin loves you, and you deliberately 
kiss him and encourage him to kiss you. And you say 
he understands!” 

“He does understand,” she persisted. “If you 
knew what he knows, you would realize that the mean¬ 
ing you put into my action could not possibly belong 
to it.” 

“The only fact, madam, which could convince a 


210 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


man of this, in my opinion, is the knowledge that the 
woman he loves herself loves some one else. In your 
case, I fear, your cousin can have no such conviction.” 

“He has.” 

I averted my eyes for a second. 

“I mean love for a living man, madam,” I said 
slowly. “Your cousin has no living rival, I think.” 

Something odd in her expression made me stoop 
and stare into her eyes suddenly. She tried to avoid 
my gaze, but, as a fluttering bird trying to escape from 
a cage runs straight into the hand stretched open to 
capture it, so her unwilling glance was captured by 
mine as though drawn thereto by a magnet. 

“Do you love some one, then, madam? A living 
love for a living man?” I asked quietly. 

“Yes, I do—I do,” she exclaimed desperately. 
“Will you let me go now?” 

I was not holding her, but the sense of being cap¬ 
tured by my will must have assumed a material force 
to iher at that moment. 

“Yes, you may go,” I said straightening myself 
up slowly. “Small wonder you baffle the average 
man. You appear to have as many loves as you have 
moods. You will afford me an interesting study, I 
think, in the future—when I have you entirely to my¬ 
self, and you have no other male being within range 
to practise your charms upon.” 

She stared at me as though mesmerized. 


A QUESTION OF SINCERITY 211 

“What do you mean?” she asked in a small voice. 

“I mean that it is my brutal intention to take you 
out of your present elegant setting, my L,ady, and to 
plant you in a new land, in totally different surround¬ 
ings, where you will have to work with your hands 
as the wife of a laborer should, and where, perhaps, 
removed from this atmosphere of intrigue and sham, 
acting and scheming, you may develop into some¬ 
thing nearer the likeness to the noble woman God must 
have intended you to be. Incidentally, also, you will 
have no man to love but your humble servant, at your 
service,” and I made her a low mocking bow. 

“And Rookherst and all—all this—” she made a 
comprehensive gesture with one hand—“is this noth¬ 
ing to you ?” 

“Has it ever been anything to me, madam ?” I 
asked. 

“No, perhaps not while you had your faith in me, 
and your mad infatuation for my person inspired you,” 
she persisted with a curious earnestness. “But, now 
that the disillusionment of which I warned you has 
come, and your idol has been shattered past redemp¬ 
tion, your love having changed to hatred, and the de¬ 
sire to punish being your strongest feeling, I ask you, 
why not banish me alone, and find consolation in the 
substantial blessings included in the bargain?” 

“Where should I banish you to?” I asked curi¬ 
ously. 


212 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied carelessly and de¬ 
fiantly. “Send me to the new land you speak of, or 
shut me up in a hut in a wood. The main thing 
would appear to me to put me so completely out of 
your life that you could happily forget my existence 
and enjoy the luxury and comfort of your estates in 
peace.” 

“I will consider the matter,” I said thoughtfully. 

She gave me a considering glance, and her brazen 
composure stupefied me. She seemed suddenly to 
have made herself mistress of the situation. 

“I think, on the whole, it simplifies matters that 
you should have come to hate me,” she said calmly. 
“One has fewer qualms about hurting a person who 
dislikes one and whose main desire is to hurt one in 
return. It becomes more or less a game of wits, then, 
as to which can do the hurting first and most effec¬ 
tively.” 

Her cool, defiant eyes were upon me, and I felt an 
overwhelming provocation to seize her in my hands 
and to shake the breath out of her until she gasped for 
mercy. 

Acting under the stress of this intense irritation, 
I stretched out my big hands and gripped her by the 
shoulders. 

God knows what I should have been provoked into 
doing, for I had already felt her wince under the bru¬ 
tal roughness of my grasp, when I heard a stumbling 


I 


A QUESTION OF SINCERITY 213 

step behind me, and turning my head I perceived Pic¬ 
ard in the act of depositing a tray upon the end of the 
long table. 

The man stood directly in front of one of the can¬ 
dles, and in the full light I saw his face was white with 
passion, and if a glance could have killed me I should 
have been a dead man then. 

Releasing my hold upon my wife, I turned deliber¬ 
ately to face the man. 

“Ah, Picard,’’ I said, with a wicked gibe in my 
voice, “you will be interested to learn that I have ap¬ 
plied for a license for you and your wife to travel 
abroad. I hope all your recent extraordinary misad¬ 
ventures will be a lesson to you, Picard, not to despise 
conjugal bliss and to avoid again breaking up your 
home through self-indulgence and excess.” 

The man looked me full in the face. “Damn you!” 
he said, and, swinging round on his heel, made as 
though he would leave the hall. 

“No, you don’t, my man,” said I coolly, striding 
across the intervening space and interrupting his pas¬ 
sage. “Now, then, what do you mean by that?” I 
demanded. All the demons that had been making 
havoc of my soul during the last twelve hours seemed 
to have crowded together in a triumphal onslaught. 
I was beside myself with an unreasoning, frantic de¬ 
sire to hurt and harm some one. My lady I could 
not hurt as I would, for I loved her, but this man, 


214 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

for whom I cared nothing, I would torment before I 
saved. 

He must have read something of this madness in 
my face, for I saw him pause and check the furious 
retort which trembled on his lips. This prudent ef¬ 
fort cost him something, for the veins stood out like 
cords through the swarthy skin of his forehead. 

In the brief silence my lady spoke, and in her voice 
there sounded an agony of appeal. 

“Oh, sir, let the affair end, I pray you. You are 
not yourself, neither am I—nor yet Picard, it would 
seem.” 

“I beg your pardon, my Lady, I am myself, and have 
never pretended to be other than what I appear. But, 
as for you and this footman, that is another matter, 
and you are the best judges of that. Here, you, 
Master Footman, on your knees and apologize for 
using that word to me, sirrah, or I will have you 
horsewhipped.” 

It was at that moment that a double interruption 
occurred in the persons of the worthy Masterman 
coming through the door and of Captain Lovet de¬ 
scending the stairs almost simultaneously. They both 
stopped short in amazed concern at the sight of the 
scene before them. 

Master and man in a towering passion and a fright¬ 
ened woman in an imploring attitude between them. 

“Good heavens, sir, what is the matter? What has 


A QUESTION OF SINCERITY 215 

occurred ?” ejaculated the stately Masterman, hasten¬ 
ing forward. “What are you doing here, Picard? 
Go about your duties immediately,” he continued per¬ 
emptorily, but I read the acute anxiety underlying his 
austerity, and it tickled me, angry though I was. 

“Nay, Masterman,” said I, “Picard has a penance 
to perform ere he departs, if he would avoid the pain 
and indignity of horsewhipping.” 

The good steward’s face was a curious study. His 
ruddy, healthy complexion became a sickly white; his 
firm lips parted in tremulous uncertainty. 

“What—is—it—you—have ordered him to do, sir?” 
he asked in a low, hesitating voice, and I saw his eyes 
seek my lady’s face as though for inspiration. 

“He used a word to me which I cannot let pass. 
He must apologize upon his knees,” replied I. 

There was a deathly silence in the great hall. 

Then Picard made a slight movement. 

“Very well,” he said gravely, “I—” But before he 
could finish his sentence Masterman sprang forward. 

“No!” he stormed. “It shall not be! It is too 
much! May heaven preserve us from such indignity. 
I will apologize for you, and, if that is not sufficient, 
let me bear the horsewhipping, sir,” he exclaimed, turn¬ 
ing to me with tears actually in his eyes. “See, I 
kneel to you, sir, and offer you my humble apologies 
for the word inadvertently uttered.” 

“Good heavens!” I ejaculated with certainly un- 


216 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


feigned astonishment at the turn of events. “You, 
Masterman, on your knees to save your subordinate 
the indignity!” I looked round the circle of faces 
ironically. 

“Would you not care to immolate yourself also, my 
Lady, or you, Captain Lovet, for the sake of this 
precious footman? There is plenty of kneeling space 
available. That will do, Masterman. I accept your 
apology, and as for you, Picard, my advice is, keep 
your temper until you are safely out of England; then 
you can let it loose upon your wife, if you like. I 
won’t add this time, refrain from strong drink, be¬ 
cause we have all of us acted as if we were more or 
less intoxicated—even Masterman.” 

I thereupon walked away from the group, and as¬ 
cended the stairs with never a glance behind me. 

Captain Lovet no doubt lit my lady to her room that 
night, for I did not. 


CHAPTER XIII 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE 

U PON reporting my arrival in London the fol¬ 
lowing day I received instructions to wait 
upon the secretary of state in his office, which 
I accordingly did. 

Mr. Thurloe’s quiet, grave face looked slightly dis¬ 
turbed when he saw me. 

“Ah, General Williams,” he exclaimed, “you have 
lost no time in coming. I am glad of that, as a dis¬ 
agreeable duty is best got over promptly.” 

I saluted in silence, and after a moment’s pause he 
continued: 

“I am sorry to say his Highness is seriously dis¬ 
pleased with you, General. You had your instructions 
to use all vigilance to detain suspected persons 
wherever discovered, and we find you have failed to 
exercise your powers in the district under your con¬ 
trol. This is a serious dereliction of duty, sir, and for 
your own sake, and because of my feeling of personal 
friendship toward you, I hope sincerely that you will 
be able to explain your conduct satisfactorily.” 

217 


2l8 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“Is there any other criticism made on my adminis¬ 
tration, sir?” I inquired. 

“None,” replied Thurloe. “The district within 
your command has been remarkably orderly and well 
conducted; but that will not excuse you for a non-ob¬ 
servance of orders.” 

“No, sir, I quite understand that; but no doubt his 
Highness has some specific examples of this neglect 
on my part, as it would be unfair to condemn a man 
on general principles which he might find it difficult to 
refute.” 

Thurloe gave me an oddly penetrating glance be¬ 
fore replying deliberately: 

“I think you will find his Highness has a specific 
instance to question you upon. He will be ready to 
receive you by now, I fancy. Will you accompany 
me, please, General?” 

My interview with the lord protector was not a pleas¬ 
ant one to recall. The moment was a most unpro- 
pitious one, for information had recently reached the 
Government of the fate of the enterprise in the West 
Indies and the subsequent breaking up of the great 
armament of sixty ships and nine thousand soldiers 
intended to win us the riches of the Spanish islands, 
the news having been carried home by Admiral Penn 
and General Venables themselves, the leaders of the 
expedition. 

The protector was reputed to be a man of violent 
temper, though he rarely permitted himself to be 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE 


219 


mastered by the same; but when the gallant command¬ 
ers presented themselves before him with their woe¬ 
ful and contradictory accounts it was whispered abroad 
that his Highness made no attempt to control his wrath, 
and was indeed beside himself with fearful passion, 
to the entire confusion of the two officers, who found 
themselves that same day lodged in the Tower, there 
to recover their wits at leisure. With sinking heart 
I now foresaw myself walking into the aftermath of 
this storm, and one glance at his Highness’s face upon 
entering the room close upon Mr. Secretary’s heels 
was enough to convince me of the correctness of my 
foreboding. 

Cromwell’s naturally red complexion had assumed 
a purplish tinge, and the warts and pimples which dis¬ 
figured it were more pronounced than ever; his cor¬ 
rugated brows were drawn together in an ominous 
frown, beneath which his eyes gleamed coldly at 
me. 

“You need not wait, Mr. Thurloe,” he began stiffly; 
“I will send for you if need be.” 

When the door closed upon the secretary’s neat, 
orderly figure, the protector leaned back in his chair 
and fixed a cold stare upon me for what appeared to 
me to be an interminable length of time. 

It required all the powers of self-control that I could 
muster to bear this steady scrutiny with anything ap¬ 
proaching composure. 

“Well, General!” at length he broke out in his harsh 


220 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


voice. “You appear to carry an uneasy conscience 
with little discomfort.” 

I raised my eyebrows in polite surprise. 

“I am not aware of having an uneasy conscience, 
your Highness, but I confess to having been putting 
my life history through a searching examination dur¬ 
ing the last three minutes.” 

Cromwell’s expression relaxed ever so slightly, and 
I felt I had scored a point, and was proportionately 
relieved; but the relief was short-lived. 

“You recollect my visit to Rookherst, and a certain 
conversation we had that evening in your study. If 
I remember rightly, I warned you then not to for¬ 
get that you were a soldier of the state before you were 
the husband of a charming woman?” 

“I recollect perfectly, your Highness.” 

“Apparently it has not borne fruit, then.” 

“How so, your Highness?” 

“If you had acted upon my words you would not 
have made your roof a shelter for an enemy of the 
state you profess to serve, sir.” 

“I should be glad, sir, if you would explain more 
fully of what I am accused, for I confess candidly I 
am in the dark at present,” I said. 

Cromwell gave me a steely glance, then picked up 
a document from his table. 

“This is an order for the arrest of a footman in your 
employment who is a disguised enemy of the state, 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE 


221 


and has been in arms against the commonwealth.” 

“My footman, sir?” I repeated thoughtfully. “If 
you remember, he entered my service under a cloud, 
and it appears he is to leave it under one, too. That 
man is certainly wedded to misfortune. Who is he, 
your Highness?” 

“That is what I expect you to tell me,” retorted the 
protector. 

“I am afraid I cannot for I do not know who he is, 
if he is not one Picard, a footman. What name is he 
to be arrested under, may I ask your Highness?” I 
inquired curiously. 

Cromwell continued to stare hard at me while I 
spoke; then, with one of his sudden, unexpected altera¬ 
tions of mood, his face relaxed and he actually smiled. 

“Verily, I was hoping you could supply a name,” 
he said, “for upon my word I do not know who the 
fellow is myself. I am inclined to believe you are 
honest, Williams. I confess I had my confidence in 
you shaken, but much against my will, and I am only 
too glad to give you the benefit of the doubt. I will 
therefore inform you of the facts as now known to 
me. You, no doubt, remember the occurrences re¬ 
counted to you previously when an agent of ours in 
Cornwall led us on a wild-goose chase after the sup¬ 
posed Charles Stuart? Well, it seems this agent, with 
the forlorn hope of reestablishing himself in our con¬ 
fidence, continued to haunt the neighborhood of South 


222 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


Molton, and at length was rewarded for his persever¬ 
ance by being successful in bribing the son of the cot¬ 
tagers in whose house he asserted he saw the prince. 
This lad was a heavy, half-witted creature, but shrewd 
enough to be able to supply some valuable links in a 
curious chain. 

“From him my man learned that the boy’s father 
happened to pass through South Molton while taking 
his farm produce into market, the day following the 
Penruddock affray. The bodies of the slain insurgents 
had been thrown into a ditch by the roadside, and from 
among them came the sound of one moaning. The 
farmer gets him out of the cart and after a little search 
finds an officer among the bodies who is not dead, but 
quite unconscious. With the help of the half-witted 
son, the man, who appears to have had brains enough 
for both, strips the Royalist officer of his uniform 
and exchanges his clothes with one of the common 
soldiers. In this disguise he brings the rebel home to 
his cottage, and keeps him there, which was generous, 
considering he had no pay for food and lodging. It 
seems the man retained a note-book he had found in 
the stranger’s pocket, but, being unable to read, it was 
no help to finding the man’s identity, the stranger re¬ 
maining stubbornly unconscious for some time; and 
when he did recover he had apparently lost his memory 
and could give no coherent information. This went 
on until a cousin of the farmer arrived in the neighbor- 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE 


223 

hood, a man employed by a firm of wine-merchants, 
traveling backward and forward between Cornwall 
and the Midlands—the man, in fact, who was detained 
at Salisbury later on and had on his person the letter 
addressed to your steward. This man, being literate, 
was able to decipher the pocket-book and by its means 
evidently discovered their guest’s identity and traced 
his relatives, for, according to the boy’s narrative, a 
strange gentleman arrived one day with a purseful of 
money and was closeted for several hours with the 
Royalist, and after that the farmer’s family appear 
to have been liberally rewarded for their pains. The 
lad’s delineation of the visitor is as vague as most of 
his narrative. He could only describe him as a dig¬ 
nified, serious-looking gentleman who alarmed him 
greatly when he looked at him. His dates are equally 
uncertain, but this visit would seem to have occurred 
somewhere at the end of June or the beginning of 
July. From this time the health of the refugee im¬ 
proved rapidly. His memory returned and he was 
able to write several letters, which were delivered to 
the traveling cousin with substantial payment each 
time. 

“Then came the scare about Charles, and the visitor 
was bundled out of the house secretly the same night 
and taken off in a cart covered with straw to some 
unknown destination. The half-witted lad’s account 
ends here, but by means of the intercepted letter at 


224 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


Salisbury we can carry the narrative on to its un¬ 
doubted final stage, where the Royalist refugee next 
appears at Rookherst as a footman.” 

The protector paused and watched me narrowly. 

I drew in my breath. 

“A most curious tale, sir,” I said, “but there can 
be little doubt the footman and the Royalist officer 
are one and the same. The question is, who is he, and 
what claim can he have upon Rookherst?” 

“As to that,” replied Cromwell, “one rebel will help 
another at all costs, and your fair lady has always been, 
as I warned you, an active assister in all enterprises 
of rebellious nature. The main thing is to apprehend 
the man; once here, there will be little difficulty in 
identifying him, I fancy. Here is the order of arrest, 
Williams; I give it over to you to prove to you that I 
still have confidence in you that you will do your duty. 
Bring the man up with you, and all doubts of your 
loyalty will be cleared away.” He spoke in his former 
genial tone, and his expression was friendly. 

I took the paper with genuine relief, thanking him 
with all sincerity for his mark of renewed confidence, 
and I was in the act of placing the document in my 
doublet when the door opened and Thurloe entered, 
carrying an open letter in his hand. 

His expression was disturbed, and it seemed to me 
he purposely avoided looking at me as he walked up 
to the table at which the protector sat. 

“This letter, sir, has just reached me,” he said 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE 


225 

gravely. "It should have been handed in last night, 
but was mislaid by one of my clerks.” 

Cromwell took the sheet of paper and read it with 
a frown which grew more ominous every second. 

With a suffocating sense of dismay I had already 
recognized my own handwriting upon the paper, and 
divined that it was my unlucky effort at generosity re¬ 
turning like a barbed arrow to my own bosom. 

At length Cromwell raised his eyes. 

"What am I to deduce from this, Williams?” he de¬ 
manded harshly. "Here is a letter from you request¬ 
ing a passport for the man under discussion!” 

I saw no use in attempting to hide my perturbation 
and discomfort, even if I could have done so success¬ 
fully. 

"I am afraid it will be a difficult matter to explain, 
sir,” I replied unhappily, "but I will make an effort to 
do so, if you will permit me.” 

"Speak on,” he said, curtly. 

Briefly I described the incident upon the road and 
Picard’s share in it. "The man undoubtedly saved 
my life, sir, and when I signified my desire to reward 
his service, and he asked for a license to leave the 
country in order to settle down with his wife in the 
land of his birth, I could scarcely refuse so small a 
request.” 

Cromwell listened attentively to my tale, never for 
an instant removing his eyes from my face. 

"Very good, General; you have certainly given a 


226 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


plausible explanation; it only remains to put it to the 
test. You have the order of arrest in your possession. 
Take it and act upon it, and bring your man back with 
you—whoever he is. And remember, it is to be a life 
for a life. If you bring him here, all will be well; if 
you do not produce him ...” He paused signifi¬ 
cantly, and I filled in the gap almost mechanically. 

“I understand, your Highness. I will bring you 
the man, or, should I fail to do so, I will report to you 
in person.” 

He nodded. 

“I see you take my meaning, General.” 

The interview was at an end. I saluted the two 
great men and withdrew, pausing in the gallery im¬ 
mediately outside the door to mop my brow, which was 
clammy with perspiration. 

I was in the act of doing so when I heard my name 
spoken, and turning perceived my accoster to be General 
Sir John Preston, a man who had great influence with 
Cromwell, and one whom I knew more by repute than 
from personal acquaintance, but for whom I instinc¬ 
tively felt a high respect and admiration. 

He now met my glance with friendly curiosity. 

“Have you been with the protector, General 
Williams?” he asked. “Is he within the room?” 

I nodded and replied: 

“Yes. I have just had a pleasant chat with his 
Highness.” 

He smiled appreciatively. 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE 


227 


“Was it as bad as all that?” 

“Well, it might have been worse, I suppose,” I re¬ 
plied reflectively. “I might be lodged already in the 
Tower, instead of being a comparatively free man for 
the next forty-eight hours.” 

“And after that?” he inquired, looking at me with 
close attention. 

“After that, unless I can deliver a certain individual 
to his doom, I shall be a doomed man myself.” 

“I should make every effort to produce the other, 
then,” he suggested with seriousness. 

“That I am going to do,” I replied grimly enough, 
“but I have a curious premonition that fates have willed 
it otherwise.” 

He shook his head decidedly. 

“You must master fate, man. But look you here, 
General Williams; if you are in any difficulty that re¬ 
quires the assistance of a friend, will you look upon 
me as that ’friend? I will do all in my power to help 
you, as a brother officer.” 

We gripped hands, and I felt warmed and supported 
by this unexpected sympathy and genuine brother¬ 
liness from a man who stood high in the estimation of 
all honest men and was by breeding as well as by nature 
a true nobleman. 

I made my way direct to my lodging in Fleet Street, 
where Saunders, the ever faithful, awaited me. 

It was then about two o’clock in the afternoon, and 
I calculated if we set out at once we should reach 


228 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


Rookherst by about six o’clock, the roads being good. 
It meant a hard day’s ride to do the journey twice 
over in the same day, but o’ur horses had had several 
hours’ rest. It was imperative I should get back as 
quickly as possible, lest my victim should have time 
to take fright and flee. 

In my mind I had no uncertainty as to my course 
of action. There was no place for sentimental scru¬ 
ples in those unhappy days. It was ever and again a 
case of a life for a life, and the weakling and the 
scrupulous went into the gutter. 

It was nevertheless with deep misgivings that I rode 
through the sunny lanes that summer afternoon. 

Who was the man? What claim had he upon my 
lady, and upon her relatives? How would his arrest 
and most certain fate affect my lady and her attitude 
toward myself? Our relations were already strained. 
Would this seeming betrayal on my part bring matters 
to a breaking-point? And, if so, what then? What 
line of conduct should I adopt with her? Once hav¬ 
ing entirely alienated her sympathy and turned her 
present indifference into active hatred, what hope 
would there be for ever realizing the dream of all 
these years? 

Should I, then, bow to the inevitable, give up hope 
of ever winning her for myself, and leave her alone, 
or should I by fierce unscrupulous force coerce her into 
at least outward submission to my will, contrary to my 


A LIFE FOR A LIFE 


229 

oath to her, and trust to the power of my determination 
to wear down her opposition in time ? 

They were disturbing thoughts, and it was with 
some relief that I caught sight at length of the gates of 
Rookherst. Active action of any kind was preferable 
to this miserable weighing of pros and cons. 


CHAPTER XIV 


A RIDE AGAINST TIME 

M ASTERMAN met me at the entrance, and 
he looked both confused and perturbed at 
the sight of me; but this fact did not cause 
me surprise, for, as I had left Rookherst at dawn that 
morning, I had scarcely more than caught a glimpse of 
the worthy steward before my departure, and this was, 
therefore, virtually the first time we had met since 
the memorable scene of the previous evening, and I 
could understand that to a man of Masterman’s tem¬ 
perament the indignity to which he had voluntarily 
subjected himself would leave its mark behind in self- 
consciousness and discomfiture. 

I passed him with a curt nod, and strode on into the 
hall, where he followed me, dutifully, to await any 
orders. 

“Any letters or news, Masterman?” I inquired cas- * 
ually. 

“No, sir.” 

“Where is her ladyship ?” 

“I am not sure, sir, at this moment precisely where 
she is,” 


230 


A RIDE AGAINST TIME 


231 


“And Captain Lovet?” 

“The captain left this morning, sir.” 

This was news, but I had expected it. 

“He instructed me to tell you, sir, that he would 
write to you personally.” 

“Very good. By the way, Masterman, I have a 
document here to give to Picard. Send him to me.” 

The steward looked up quickly, and there was eager¬ 
ness in his glance. 

“Is it the passport, sir, which you promised to pro¬ 
cure for him, may I ask?” 

“Which I promised to try to obtain for him,” I cor¬ 
rected coldly. “These matters take time and trouble, 
don’t forget. Go and tell him to come here. I have a 
mind to give this to him myself.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the steward, retiring immediately. 

When a quarter of an hour had passed and no foot¬ 
man made his appearance, I rang a bell sharply, and 
Masterman reentered the hall. I noticed his face was 
unusually pallid. 

“I told you to send Picard to me. Where is he?” 

“Has he not come, sir? I will inquire.” 

As I watched his retreating back an idea flashed 
through my mind. Acting upon it, I got to my feet, 
and mounted the staircase with some rapidity to my 
sanctum. 

Proceeding straight to the cabinet in which I kept 
my papers, I tried the lock. 

My suspicion was corroborated; the lock had been 


232 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


forced, and a hasty examination showed that the orig¬ 
inal passport I had obtained for my lady to visit her 
brother had been abstracted. 

The plot was clear as daylight. Without a moment’s 
hesitation, I walked across the passage and lifted the 
latch of my lady’s bedroom. The room was empty, 
but here and there were signs of hurried departure: a 
pair of gauntlets dropped upon the floor, a hood tossed 
over a chair, and her gown, the one she had probably 
worn that morning, and hastily exchanged for one 
more suitable for traveling, lying upon the bed, just 
where her maid had thrown it, too pressed for time to 
pause even to fold it. 

It was with a somewhat unpleasant expression on 
my face, I fancy, that I descended to the hall again. 
Here I found Masterman awaiting me. One glance 
must have convinced him that the farce was ended. 

I observed him draw in his breath quickly, and as it 
were brace himself for the inevitable encounter. 

“Well, Masterman,” I said grimly, “I see the mys¬ 
tery bird has flown, and my lady too.” I glanced at 
him sharply. “Did Captain Lovet accompany them?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“When did they leave?” 

“Early this morning, sir.” 

“How soon after I left?” 

“Within an hour, sir.” 

I made a rapid calculation. They would have 
reached Dover then in the afternoon. The mail packet- 


A RIDE AGAINST TIME 


233 

boat was due to leave the harbor at dawn. I glanced 
at my watch. 

It was just six o’clock. I could hardly hope to reach 
Dover in time, but by means of post-horses I might 
do so. 

I would make the attempt anyway. Masterman read 
my thoughts, and I saw him pass his tongue nervously 
over his dry lips before he spoke hoarsely. 

“The boat leaves at dawn. You cannot hope to get 
there in time to stop them. Thank God.” 

My anger broke bounds. 

“Thank God, you say? If they escape, they may 
well thank God, for I swear if I catch that precious 
footman he shall swing for all the trouble he has 
caused, and the elegant captain too shall wish he had 
never crossed my path. I have been generous enough 
in the past, and now I will follow another course; and, 
by heaven, either they or I will be broken within forty- 
eight hours.—Saunders!” My voice rang through the 
arched hall, harsh and unpleasing, an outcome of the 
jangling discord within me. 

Masterman took a step forward. 

“Sir,” he said, and his voice shook with emotion. 
“I implore you, as you value your own happiness, not 
to meddle further in this matter!” 

“My own happiness!” I sneered. “Where does that 
come in, my good Masterman? And since when have 
you concerned yourself with that?” 

“You will not believe me now 1 , sir,” he repeated, and 


234 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


there was pathos in the hopelessness of his manner, 
“yet I swear to you, if you will only let things take their 
course now, it will be for your truest peace of mind 
hereafter.” 

“My peace of mind, now, I note, not my happiness, 
my honest Masterman,” I jeered. 

He returned my look gravely and sadly. 

“The peace of mind that comes from a clear con¬ 
science, sir, the happiness which springs from noble 
conduct.” 

I snapped my fingers contemptuously. 

“Fine-sounding phrases, Masterman, will not satisfy 
a man thirsting for the common kinds of happiness 
which spring from love and such-like ordinary weak¬ 
nesses of human nature. Preserve your clear con¬ 
science and noble conduct for yourself, by all means, 
and glean what comfort you can from their possession, 
but remember there are two sides to most things, and 
I happen to have had the seamy side of your noble con¬ 
duct turned to me, and therefore have been unable to 
appreciate it as, no doubt, I should.—Saunders! Ah, 
there you are. 'Get fresh horses saddled immediately. 
We must reach Dover before dawn.” 

Saunders showed no surprise. 

“Very good, sir. I will see to the horses at once.” 

I turned back to resume my position by the fireplace, 
to find myself covered by a pistol. 

This unexpected move on the part of the steward 
took me completely by surprise. I was unarmed at 


A RIDE AGAINST TIME 


235 

the moment, having laid my pistols upon the table at 
my entrance, and the household was out of ear-shot, 
the kitchen quarters being so far separated from the 
hall that until Saunders’s return Masterman had 
me at his mercy, with little fear of interruption. 

“So you intend murder, my friend?” I inquired 
pleasantly. 

“No, sir, but I intend to prevent you riding to¬ 
night.” 

“And you propose to accomplish that amiable inten¬ 
tion by means of the thing in your hand, may I ask?” 

“Yes,” he replied grimly; “unless you give me your 
word of honor that you will relinquish your plan, I 
intend to cripple you.” 

I eyed him dubiously. 

“I hope you are a good shot, Masterman,” I said. 
“At present your pistol appears to be in a straight line 
for my heart, which is a delicate organ and might crip¬ 
ple me permanently.” 

He made no reply, but the weapon shifted slightly, 
and then wavered alarmingly. 

“I wish you would keep it still, man,” I exclaimed 
irritably. “I should prefer it was steady 1 , even if 
aimed at my heart.” 

“Your man Saunders will be back soon, sir; you 
must decide quickly,” said the steward, desperation 
sounding in his voice. 

“I must have a stronger reason than the one you 
have chosen, Masterman. If you answer me a ques- 


236 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

tion or two, it may help me to decide. First, who is 
Picard?” 

“That I cannot tell you. My lips are sealed.” 

“Very well. Then answer me this: Will Lady 
Rosamond come back to Rookherst?” 

I saw him hesitate, then he replied solemnly and 
slowly: “I hope she may come back one day.” 

“But not as my wife?” 

He met my eyes with a curious far-away look in 
his. 

“Not as your wife. She has never been your wife, 
except in name.” 

I flushed hotly with annoyance at the man’s inso¬ 
lence and the knowledge he apparently had of my most 
intimate concerns. 

“It seems my lady has discussed our matrimonial 
relations pretty freely with you,” said I. “So, being 
only a wife in name, she has decided she can pass out 
of my life altogether without any great injury being 
done, I suppose, to either of us. What lover has she 
selected?” 

Masterman regarded me with cold hostility. 

“Lady Rosamond has had only one love in her life, 
to my knowledge, sir.” 

“Then your knowledge of her is not as intimate as 
mine, Mr. Steward,” I retorted. 

“We waste Sme, sir. I must request you to de¬ 
cide. I will count five, and then I shoot. One . . . 
two . 


A RIDE AGAINST TIME 


237 

At that instant, from my position with my back to 
the fireplace, I observed Saunders pass the window, sil¬ 
houetted against the evening sky. Saunders, for all 
his big simplicity of heart, was no fool. I saw him 
pause and take stock of the scene within, and then 
disappear. 

“Three . . . four . . . Will you give your prom¬ 
ise, sir?” 

“No.” 

Two shots rang out simultaneously. 

I was correct in my apprehensions as to Master- 
man’s markmanship, or else he was flurried by the sus¬ 
picion of Saunders’s arrival on the scene. His shot 
went wide and struck the carved mantelpiece above my 
shoulder ; whereas Saunders’s bullet reached its mark 
and the steward fell forward on his face. 

“Not killed, I hope, Saunders?” I asked hastily, 
stooping over the prostrate man. 

“No, sir; only his thigh, sir. It should be three 
inches above the left knee, sir—a safe spot, sir.” 

Together we raised the steward into a sitting posi¬ 
tion upon an arm-chair. 

His face was deathly white, but not, I believe, from 
pain or fear. 

“Go and fetch some of the household, Saunders, to 
attend to this hurt, for we must be off. Ah, here 
comes some one,” as a scared servant ran in. 

“Now, haste you, Saunders,” I continued, “and pack 
into a bag to take with us a razor and a candle and a 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


238 

piece of cork. We will do some undisguising to-night, 
if we are in time.” I glanced down at the wounded 
man as I spoke, and was disturbed by the agony in his 
eyes. 

“I am sorry you are hurt, Masterman,” I said re¬ 
morsefully. 

“That is nothing, sir. It is not that which troubles 
me. But ah! sir, why will you go to-night ?” 

“My good fellow,” I answered with a touch of im¬ 
patience, “it seems it is a choice of two evils. If I go, 
according to you, it is to meet some mysterious disas¬ 
ter; if I do not go, I forfeit my life.” 

“Forfeit your life? How so?” he cried, amazed. 

I withdrew the order for Picard’s arrest from my 
doublet, and held it open for him to read. 

“I never expected this, sir,” he muttered. “Then it 
is known already; there can be no secrecy now?” 

“No,” I replied seriously. “Whatever is done now 
must be done openly; either this man or I will swing* 
at Newgate.” 

“We never dreamed of this, sir; we none of us 
thought of any danger to you.” 

“You imagined it could be all done in a corner, I 
suppose, without any of the authorities being any the 
wiser?” I suggested with some bitterness. 

“Yes, we hoped so; we none of us dreamed your life 
might be in jeopardy.” 

“That would be the last thing you would desire, I 
suppose, Masterman!” I inquired sarcastically. “Yet 


A RIDE AGAINST TIME 239 

I confess to being rather nervous about myself just 
now.” 

“I told you, sir, that I never intended to kill you,” he 
replied earnestly. 

“No, I quite understand it would have been purely 
accidental if you had, my good Masterman; still I was 
a little nervous. Ah! here come the bandages. Your 
needs will now be attended to. Have you collected 
the things we shall require, Saunders?” 

“Yes, sir, and some soap and soda, too. It is in¬ 
valuable for removing stain and dye from hair, sir.” 

I laughed, and threw a glance of defiance at poor 
Masterman. 

“And now to ride like the devil, Saunders. Good 
night, Masterman. With any luck it will not be I who 
swings at Newgate. And when I come back to Rook- 
herst you must have daily practice at shooting at a 
target, Masterman.” 

Once upon horseback, riding through the moon-lit 
roads, I laughed no more. Mile after mile we rode in 
silence, and deeper and deeper plunged I into abysmal 
thought. 

A hideous suspicion had sprung to life within me 
-—a suspicion that had flitted across my mind before, 
only to be banished as too preposterous to be even con¬ 
templated. 

This now not only returned, but remained, took 
form, and grew, and clamored to be examined and 
tested by the hard facts as known to me now. 


240 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


If this was the case—if it could possibly be the truth, 
when had it become known to my lady? 

I believed I could put my finger upon the very day 
and hour when she became cognizant of it. 

“I have received agitating news”—her words and 
very tones seemed still to sound in my ears. “I am 
not quite myself.” She had shrunk away, visibly 
trembling from my touch then, and from that day her 
attitude toward me had entirely changed. 

First she had kept aloof and held me at a distance, 
and later on, when once the stranger had arrived and 
was apparently safely installed, her manner had relaxed 
with every evidence of relief, and she—I shuddered as 
I dwelt upon the next phase—she had set herself delib¬ 
erately to coquette with me, in order to gain her 
object, namely, the passport she needed for herself 
and him. 

Good heavens! how I had been duped! And yet 
when I came to think of the weird, horrible, naked fact 
in its entirety, what could any wife, put into such a 
position, do other than she had done ? 

When she discovered that the husband she had 
mourned was still alive, while she was in outward form 
married to another man, and moreover to a political op¬ 
ponent, could she be expected to confess her knowledge 
to that other man, and thus jeopardize the safety of the 
husband she loved? Would she not rather sacrifice 
everything, including truth and honor, to shield him, 


A RIDE AGAINST TIME 


241 


and convey him into safety? That the other man, the 
nominal husband, should be sacrificed also would neces¬ 
sarily be a minor consideration. 

The whole chain of facts and probabilities gradually 
worked themselves out, link by link, in my tired, rest¬ 
less brain. 

One question hammered itself upon my mind with 
ceaseless reiteration: 

“What was I going to do if I reached Dover before 
dawn?” 

Supposing I apprehended Picard, and proved that he 
was in reality Lord Killigew, what then? 

What could I hope to attain by delivering him up to 
his death? 

True, his widow could then become my legal wife, 
but would not the dead husband stand between her and 
me even more potently than the living man did now ? 

I should save my own neck certainly, but would not 
life itself be death, and its joys and desires turn to 
dust and ashes in my grasp? 

I should be revenged—ah! that thought had a tingle 
in it! Revenge is sweet to an embittered soul, and my 
soul was very bitter within me then. 

That would be something worth attaining. I dug 
my spurs into my horse’s flanks. “Ride like the devil, 
Saunders,” I cried over my shoulder, “for we have the 
devil’s own work to do to-night.” 

Moved by some unreasoning impulse, I turned my 


242 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


head again a minute later, and took a view of my man¬ 
servant. In the moonlight I saw his lips were moving 
soundlessly. 

“What are you doing, Saunders?” I asked sharply. 
“Praying?” 

“Yes, sir; I was praying for you.” 

“For me? Wherefore?” 

“I do not know, sir,” he replied quite simply. “I 
always pray for you, sir.” 

“Thanks: it is very good of you, I am sure,” I said, 
the evil spirit within me prompting me to mockery. 

Saunders had many virtues, but a sense of humor 
was not among them. He now began laboriously to 
explain himself. 

“It is not because I think you need my prayers, sir,” 
he said ponderously, “for you are a good man, sir, and 
an example to me and others.” 

“That I certainly am not,” I shouted suddenly and 
furiously. “You are a fool, Saunders. Hold your 
tongue, and keep your prayers for some less saintly 
character than you think me to be.” 

We rode on a space. A cloud crossed the moon, and 
a little wind rose up and moaned softly like unto a 
woman crying. 

I turned my head. 

“Saunders.” 

“Yes, sir?” 

“Perhaps you had better go on praying.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” 


A RIDE AGAINST TIME 


“And, Saunders-” 

“Yes, sir?” 

“You are a fool, but a lovable fool.” 
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” 



CHAPTER XV 


ACCEPTING DEFEAT 

W E rode into Dover town as the dawn was 
breaking cold and gray. 

I had no difficulty in deciding where to 
look for my quarry. There were only two inns of 
repute to choose between, and I hit upon the right one 
at my first venture. 

The landlord was already known to me, and upon 
recognizing me his sulky annoyance at being awakened 
before his time gave place to an obsequious greeting. 
When I showed him the order of arrest and explained 
my reason for arriving at that early hour, he was all 
eagerness to assist me in my duty. 

“Fortunately, the boat’s departure has been put off 
until six o’clock, your Honor,” he said; “also the man 
you require is in a room alone. Her ladyship insisted 
upon his having a room to himself, because he was un¬ 
well, and she feared it might be infectious, as her maid 
also had fallen sick on the road and had to be left be¬ 
hind.” 

“We need not disturb the whole hostelry, in that 

case, which is all the better,” I said. “I think the best 

244 


ACCEPTING DEFEAT 


245 

plan would be for you to accompany us to his room, 
and knock on the door as though it was time for him to 
be roused. I surmise his door will be bolted, you see, 
and as we cannot get in to him we must get him to 
come out to us. You can then leave the rest to me.” 

The landlord grinned his comprehension. 

“One thing more,” I added. “I do not wish this 
affair to become common gossip. You understand 
me?” 

“Yes, your Honor, perfectly. I will not breathe 
a word of it. Am I to inform her ladyship, your wife, 
of your presence, sir?” 

“No, certainly not. You can show me later on the 
apartment she is occupying, but on no account is she to 
be disturbed.” 

“No, sir. Very good, sir. It will be shock enough 
to her ladyship to learn that the man-servant is a rogue, 
after all her kindness and consideration, too.” 

The ruse proved entirely successful. The landlord 
thumped heavily upon the door, which rattled beneath 
his lusty blows, and a voice within, which I recognized 
as my footman’s, called out hastily. 

“What is it?” 

“What is it, indeed!” grumbled our crafty coad¬ 
jutor. “Time to get up, you lazy, good for nothing 
lady’s maid; that’s what it is. But for me you would 
never catch the boat.” 

There came a sound of hurried movement from 
behind the rickety door, and the poor dupe ejaculated; 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


246 

“My watch must have stopped; and yet it is 
going now. Very good. I will be out without delay.” 

To judge by the literalness with which he fulfilled 
this statement, he must have lain down in most of his 
clothes. The stout landlord had hardly stumped his 
way noisily down the stairs before the bolt was pulled 
back and the door opened quickly to reveal Picard fully 
dressed. 

He stepped straight into the barrels of our two pis¬ 
tols. I could have found it in my heart to pity him at 
that moment, had I been myself. His complexion 
looked ghastly in the dim light, but he was a brave man 
and made no moan when he saw fate was too strong 
for him. 

“I see I am caught,” he said quietly. “What do you 
wish to do with me?” 

“Shave you and wash you,” I replied laconically. 

He gave me a steady look. 

“You do not know who I am, then?” 

“I am about to inform myself,” I retorted coolly. 

He made no reply, but, obeying a gesture from me, 
reentered the room he had been about to leave, and 
seating himself on a stool beside the small ta,ble, sub¬ 
mitted to having his feet and wrists securely bound by 
Saunders with a piece of stout cord. 

After which precaution my handy man lighted the 
candle we had brought with us and busied himself with 
shaving-brush and razor. 

I turned my back upon the operation and stood gaz- 


ACCEPTING DEFEAT 


247 

ing absently through the tiny window. Somehow I 
could not bring myself to watch the transformation 
being carried out before my very eyes. 

Presently I remarked: 

“Put the eyebrows in thickly, Saunders.” 

“Yes, sir; but bushy effect is difficult with cork, sir,” 
replied the good fellow, and I wondered whether, after 
all, he was as simple-minded as I had imagined. 

“It is done now, sir.” Saunders’s voice sounded odd. 

Slowly and reluctantly I turned round and directed 
my gaze upon the silent seated figure. The metamor¬ 
phosis was complete. Although I had fully expected 
to see what I now saw, the reality and all it meant 
pierced through my soul with an agony indescribable. 

A deathly stillness pervaded the room for a few 
seconds; we must have seemed to be three statues. 

Presently one of the statues laughed. 

“Very well done, Saunders. Keep guard over the 
stranger. I will now go and see my wife.” 

Killigew started forward on his stool and attempted 
to rise to his feet. 

“For God’s sake, Williams, have a care what you 
do.” 

I laughed again, and he must have seen the devil in 
my eyes, for he cried out passionately: 

“May God protect her and blast you if you lay a 
finger upon her. She is no wife of yours, and you 
know it. Wait—listen—I will-” 

But I passed out of the room, unheeding. 



MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


248 

I met the worthy landlord awaiting me below, and 
at my request he led me to my lady’s apartments. 
These consisted of a small anteroom, with a bedroom 
beyond. 

I closed and bolted the outer door of the anteroom. 
Then I crossed to the inner door and lifted the latch. 

My lady lay sleeping, as I had once pictured her, 
with her golden hair streaming around her over the 
pillow and her lips softly parted. The dying moon¬ 
light made a pale illumination in the room, and in the 
ghostly radiance her face looked almost lifeless in its 
beauty and stillness. 

Presently she stirred in her sleep and drew in her 
breath with a little sobbing catch, as though she was 
being made afraid, and I moved back, noiselessly, 
steadily, coerced by some unseen force. Who shall 
say that it was not the prayer of a faithful servant, 
combined with the prayers of a godly mother, which 
drove me back into the other room then and pressed 
me down on to my knees by the window. 

How long I knelt there I do not know. 

I felt the sea-mist swirling in, damping my hair 
and wetting my face, and saw the first streaks of sun¬ 
rise cut their way through the gray sky; but I knelt 
on. 

I hardly think I prayed at all; certainly not deliber¬ 
ately. My soul was a desperate battle-field, and I but 
an onlooker, exhausted by merely watching the strug- 
gle. 


ACCEPTING DEFEAT 


249 

I was roused by a knock on the outer door, and, 
upon rising stiffly to my feet and opening it, I per¬ 
ceived a sleepy-looking servant-girl, bearing a can of 
hot water and a tray of wine and bread. 

“It is but an hour to the time the boat should sail, 
your Honor/’ she said. “Shall I rouse her ladyship?” 

“Yes, go in, but do not inform her ladyship that I 
am here,” I ordered. 

The girl entered the bedroom, and I heard a mur¬ 
mur of voices within. Then she came out again and 
withdrew. 

The minutes passed. 

I could hear faint rustlings within the room. 

Presently the door opened, and my lady came out. 
For a second she did not seem to realize who I was; 
I suppose the dim light, for it was a misty morning, 
was misleading, and her thoughts far from my person. 

When she did recognize me she took a step back, 
her face deathly white, and leaned for support against 
the wall. 

“You! Oh, why are you here?” 

“Because you are, madam.” 

“Where is he? What have you done with him?” 
she cried, forgetting all caution in the extremity of her 
agitation. 

“To whom do you refer, my Lady?” I asked politely. 

She recollected herself, and I saw doubt and uncer¬ 
tainty in her face. 

“I mean, where is my man?” 


250 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“Her man, indeed!” I thought bitterly within myself; 
aloud I replied: 

“Picard? I believe he is with Saunders. I will 
send for him presently. In the meantime, madam, 
what are you proposing to do? I thought I made it 
clear to you that that passport could no longer be con¬ 
sidered valid?” 

She clenched her hands convulsively. 

“I must use it; it is imperative I should cross by the 
packet-boat to-day.” 

“ ‘Must’ is a strong word,” said I gravely. “I can 
stand between you and the packet-boat, madam. 
Have you considered that?” 

She looked at me wildly—but controlled herself 
sufficiently to say in a trembling voice: 

“You cannot be so cruel as to prevent me, now I 
have come thus far. I implore you, sir, be not un¬ 
generous. More than you think depends upon this 
journey.” 

“So I imagine,” I retorted grimly enough. I 
paused a minute, then leaned forward so as to obtain 
a better view of her face in the gray light. “My 
Lady, when you wished first for this passport, I 
asked, you remember, whether I could be sure you 
would return to me if I gave it to you. How does 
that promise stand now?” 

I saw the doubt leap afresh to her eyes, and I saw 
something besides doubt and fear; I read aversion 
there—deep, uncontrollable aversion. 


ACCEPTING DEFEAT 


251 

She made no reply, and I waited for none. Sick 
at heart, and filled with unutterable confusion of soul, 
I turned away and walked to the door. Opening it, I 
glanced down the passage. 

As I had guessed, the landlord stood expectantly 
at the end of the corridor, and at my beckoning hurried 
up to me. 

“Tell my man to bring the other here at once,” I 
said in a tone too low for my lady to hear. 

With a nod the landlord retreated. 

I turned back and closed the door again. My lady 
still kept her position by the wall. I looked at her 
wonderingly. It seemed incredible that she could be 
prepared to serve me thus, with no sign of compunc¬ 
tion, no pitiful softening of her expression, no word 
of regret. 

She met my eyes and flushed. 

“Why this delay?” she demanded; and there was 
the old hauteur in her tone. “If you intend to frus¬ 
trate me, say so and have done with it. What are 
you waiting for?” 

“For your man, my Lady,” I replied soberly. “I 
have just sent for him.” 

“And when he comes, what then? What will you 
do then?” 

I regarded her curiously, but made no reply. 

Presently there approached the sound of footsteps 
along the passage, followed by a knoqk on the 
door. 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


252 

In response to my summons, Saunders entered with 
his prisoner and, closing the door carefully behind 
him, saluted Lady Killigew and myself deferentially, 
his face as wooden as the carving of a viking. I now 
observed that, besides having his wrists bound, my 
man held his lordship by means of a leathern thong 
round his neck, a somewhat unkindly suggestive 
method, to my mind. 

My lady made no sound; every line in her figure 
seemed to become rigid and all vestige of color fled 
from her cheeks; her eyes were fixed upon her hus¬ 
band. 

Killigew, however, scarcely glanced at her. With 
a fierce gesture of his fettered hands, he demanded 
of me: 

“Have you harmed her?” 

“Answer that question, my Lady,” said I quietly, 
compelling her with a glance. 

Through her pale lips she replied: 

“He has done me no injury.” 

I looked at my watch. 

“You have exactly thirty minutes in which to reach 
the wharf, Lord and Lady Killigew,” I said. “It is 
ample time, but I suggest you do ndt delay. Un¬ 
loose his lordship, Saunders.” 

With obvious reluctance my man began to slacken 
the thong, and in doing so, I noticed, he inadvertently, 
n® doubt, tightened it up for a second, sufficiently to 


ACCEPTING DEFEAT 


253 

make Killigew jerk his head back, with a gasp. When 
he was free, his lordship took a step toward his wife, 
and then paused to look at me doubtfully: 

“Do you really mean this, Williams ?” 

“Apparently I do, my Lord. There is your wife; 
take her. I give her back to you a pure woman in 
the eyes of the world, even as though she had never 
been through a form of marriage with me. But,”— 
and the fury which possessed me shook me in its 
giant grip, and crashed through my voice,—“though 
pure in the eyes of men, I say she is polluted in the 
sight of heaven.” 

Killigew turned a dusky red. 

“I will force you to retract those words one day, 
sir,” he exclaimed passionately. “I am helpless now; 
for my wife’s sake I cannot even say what I would. 
My lips are sealed for the present, and I must bow 
to fate and accept yet another favor at your hands. 
But if you will come overseas when you can do so 
I will gladly meet you at any place and on any date 
convenient to you, and give you the satisfaction re¬ 
quired by gentlemen.” 

I nodded. 

“I will do so, my Lord, unless circumstances render 
our meeting impossible.” 

He frowned sharply, and I could read in his face 
the fierce desire of the man to relieve himself of the 
intolerable burden of the obligation he owed me. 


254 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“Between gentlemen circumstances are not per¬ 
mitted to interfere in matters of honor, sir,” he re¬ 
torted hotly. 

“My good sir,” said I dispassionately enough now, 
“I am not a gentleman, and have never pretended to 
be one, which possibly is the reason I am trammeled 
with common kinds of scruples and am likely to find 
myself mastered by circumstances over which I have 
no control. But time passes; I think you had better 
delay no longer.” 

I allowed my eyes to rest upon my Lady Rosa¬ 
mond for the last time. 

She moved forward slowly and hesitatingly, and 
then, with an obvious effort, raised her eyes to 
mine. 

“You have dealt nobly with us, sir,” she said in a 
low voice. “I hope it may be some repayment that 
Rookherst will still be yours. I have lodged the neces¬ 
sary legal documents with my uncle at Tunhill.” 

I received this remark with deep silence, amaze¬ 
ment filling my mind to the exclusion of all else for 
the moment. 

Killigew understood the situation if she did not. 

With a little flush he interposed hastily: 

“I fear Rookherst will not repay General Williams 
for all he has done for us, Rosamond. I can only 
look forward to the hour when he and I shall meet 
as gentlemen, and the payment be made in life-blood. 


ACCEPTING DEFEAT 


255 

For the present I must needs accept this last favor at 
his hands—the bitterest pill of the many I have been 
forced by him to swallow. Come; we must be 
gone.” 

They passed out of the room together, and I fol¬ 
lowed more slowly with Saunders. 

“What do you wish me to do now, sir?” queried 
the latter. 

“Go and get fresh horses; we will ride to London.” 

“Very good, sir,” replied my tired man, turning 
dutifully away. 

I called him back. 

“I have changed my mind. We will get us to bed, 
Saunders, and then have breakfast before proceed¬ 
ing on our way. We will take it quite leisurely, 
Saunders, as befits gentlemen at ease. There appears 
to me to be no need for hurry, after all. It has be¬ 
come a bad habit.” 

My man saluted again. 

“No, sir, it can do no good to hurry,” he said, and 
there was a desperate melancholy in his voice, and I 
observed his face was working for all the world like 
a baby’s about to cry. 

For my own sake as much as his I forbore any 
comment, and we went our separate ways. 

I paused on my way to have a word with the land¬ 
lord. 

“See here,” quoth I, “I find the man was not the 


256 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

same as the individual named in the order of arrest. 
There was a mistake in the identity. Keep the mat¬ 
ter quiet,” and I slipped a coin into the man’s fat 
palm. 


CHAPTER XVI 


“have you got the man?” 

I T was late in the afternoon when we reached 
Rookherst again, for I had decided to break our 
journey there to exchange our travel-worn attire 
for something more suitable for my forthcoming inter¬ 
view with the lord protector. Also I had a desire to 
speak with Masterman again, as I foresaw possible 
difficulties in the future in getting into communication 
with him. 

In this object, however, I was frustrated, for upon 
inquiring of the nervous, curious-eyed servants at the 
house I was informed that the steward had left Rook¬ 
herst for an unknown destination early that morning, 
despite his wounded leg. 

The servants evidently knew nothing of certainty 
of the true facts but surmised much, and I was glad 
to leave the desolate house and get out of range of 
their inquisitive eyes, when Saunders and I again 
took up our journey to London. 

We spent the night in my old lodgings in Fleet 
Street, and next morning I sought an interview with 
the protector. After some delay I was informed that 

257 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


258 

his Highness was engaged, but would see me at a 
certain hour that afternoon. 

The temporary reprieve was not altogether wel¬ 
come, for I had now an earnest desire to get the 
dreaded interview over as quickly as possible. 

Punctually at the hour specified I presented myself 
again at Whitehall, but was kept for half an hour in 
an anteroom adjoining the room usually used by the 
protector. While I was waiting there, Sir John Pres¬ 
ton passed through, and upon recognizing me paused 
to inquire kindly: 

“Well, General, I hope you caught the man?” 

“Yes, I caught him,” I replied gloomily. 

“Good. I am glad. You have brought him up 
with you, I suppose?” 

I shook my head. 

“No, for unfortunately I let him go again.” 

The general gave me a keen glance, then held out 
his hand suddenly. 

“I fancy you have some honorable reason, sir. If 
I can be of any help to you, you can depend upon me.” 

We gripped hands, and I felt the warmth of a true 
man’s sympathy and understanding, which was to sup¬ 
port me in the ordeal in store for me. 

Upon my entry Cromwell acknowledged my salute 
with a grave air. 

“Well, General?” he inquired. “Have you got the 
man?” 


“HAVE YOU GOT THE MAN?” 


259 


“No, your Highness.” 

He bent his terrible frown upon me. 

“Wherefore not? I presume you went back to 
Rookherst with the order of arrest?” 

“Yes, sir, I returned the same evening, but I found 
the fellow had gone.” 

“Had you no clue as to where he had gone, that you 
could have followed?” inquired Cromwell, his eyes 
like gimlets upon me. 

“Yes, sir. I had reason to believe he had gone 
to Dover, and I followed him there.” 

“But arrived too late, I suppose. No doubt he had 
a forged passport?” 

I hesitated a brief second. It seemed an easy lie 
to utter, but I was sick unto death of lies and intrigue 
and subterfuge. 

With fierce impatience I turned from the temptation, 
such as it was. 

“No, he was there—I caught him all right, but let 
him go again.” 

Cromwell struck the table in front of him with his 
fist. 

“By heaven, I swear you ’ll hang for this, Williams,” 
he shouted furiously. “You convict yourself of 
treason, and you dare to mingle it with insolence.” 

“I intended no insolence, sir,” I said humbly enough, 
“and I apologize if I seemed to do so.” 

“Who was the man?” he demanded, unmollified. 


26 o < .. MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


I was silent, miserably aware that things were go¬ 
ing as badly as possible with me. 

“Answer me.” 

Still I remained dumb. It seemed to me at the 
moment I would rather be torn in pieces than expose 
the whole humiliating story of my unfortunate mar¬ 
riage. 

“So you would be sullen now? Very well! There 
are methods by which a man may be persuaded to 
speak, even against his will, Williams. Men have 
been branded and lost their ears for less than this.” 

With an effort I held down my rising anger, which 
I realized would only make matters worse. I was 
impotent when dealing with this man, and had best 
admit it at once. 

“Your Highness has power to do what he wills, 
and I have no desire to be either sullen or insolent, 
but the matter into which you inquire touches my 
honor so closely that I must beg permission to keep 
it secret, while submitting myself to any fate you 
think fit.” 

“Your fate, General, you yourself settled. I hope 
you did not come here with any vain hopes of escap¬ 
ing it?” he said coldly. 

I smiled as I shook my head. 

“No, sir. I had no illusions of that sort.” 

“And you admit the justice of it?” he demanded 
sharply. 


“HAVE YOU GOT THE MAN?” 261 


“I never questioned it, your Highness. I knew it 
was to be a life for a life.” 

Cromwell struck a bell at his side, and then leaned 
back in his chair, regarding me rather curiously. 

Some person or persons entered the room from be¬ 
hind a large screen a little to my rear. I imagined 
it was a guard to take me in charge, and so did not 
at once turn my head. I saw Cromwell shift his gaze 
from me to the new-comer behind me, and something 
odd in his expression prompted me to follow his glance. 
With a sickening sense of unreality I saw my lady 
standing there. 

The protector looked from one to the other of us 
with a grim smile. Then, addressing me, he re¬ 
marked : 

“This lady came to see me last evening and told 
me a strange tale. If it is true, it enables certain 
omissions in your account to be filled in, General. 
But it is a story of so wild and improbable nature 
that I, for one, must have strong proof before I accept 
it. Is this lady your lawful wedded wife, Williams?” 
he broke off abruptly to inquire. 

For a moment I could frame no reply. I was 
struggling to conquer the dizzy sickness which nearly 
overpowered me. It was as if a ruthless hand had 
torn open afresh a partially soothed wound. I had 
striven with some success to put my lady’s personality 
completely out of my mind and to find relief in the 


262 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


thought that my span of life was now very short, and 
that in death all this useless, futile sorrow would be 
forever engulfed. 

But the sight of my lady there before me in flesh 
and blood, breathing the air of the same room, was 
devastating to my hoped-for peace of mind. 

A violent uncontrollable trembling seized me in 
every limb. In desperation I cried out: 

“This woman is not my wife.” 

“But she says she is,” retorted Cromwell. “Which 
of you am I to believe?” 

With an effort I regained my self-control. 

“Your Highness, as you evidently know so much, 
I will make no further secret of this affair. The man 
I permitted to escape was Lord Killigew and my—and 
—his wife was with him. I was under the belief that 
she had gone over with him. Why she did not ac¬ 
company him, and why she has come here, I can¬ 
not comprehend. It appears to me to be folly incred¬ 
ible.” 

“Incredible, I agree. The whole thing appears to me 
to be past credence,” commented the protector, “and 
yet this lady has sworn to me she is your wife.” 

A wild, insane idea flashed through my remind: 

“Was not that Lord Killigew, then?” 

Cromwell answered my question quietly: 

“Yes, that was Lord Killigew, but apparently this 
is not Lady Killigew.” 


“HAVE YOU GOT THE MAN?” 263 

We both turned our eyes upon the woman before us, 
and she looked straight at me. 

“Lady Killigew is my cousin,” she said. “I am 
Una Lovet—or, at least, I was—before I married you. 
We resemble one another so closely that few can detect 
us apart.” 

She spoke in a low, but firm, clear voice, and in her 
eyes I read the courage of the woman. 

My first remark must have seemed entirely incon¬ 
sequential to his Highness. 

“Then Captain Lovet is your brother?” 

She actually smiled, a queer little fleeting smile, re¬ 
vealing the dimple for a second. 

“Yes, sir. My brother and I have always been 
lovers.” 

The feeling of unreality still gripped me, and, as I 
groped in my mind for further light, my thoughts 
journeyed back to my strange wedding-day. 

“When did the exchange take place, then?” I asked 
stupidly. “I am afraid I do not yet understand. You 
seemed to recognize me at the wedding ceremony, and 
yet you could not have seen me before?” 

She hesitated the fraction of a moment, and then 
replied quietly: 

“I had seen you before—seven years before, but you 
did not know that—and you never saw my face. May 
I tell him the facts I have told your Highness?” she 
continued, turning deferentially toward the protector. 


MY LADY'S BARGAIN 


264 

Cromwell gave a curt nod, and she began thereupon: 

“My cousin, Lady Killigew, did not learn that her 
husband was alive until about three weeks before her 
proposed marriage. All the arrangements had been 
made, and the date actually fixed. To withdraw from 
her contract then and confess the truth would seemingly 
have meant signing the death-warrant of both her 
young brother then in prison and of her husband, 
whose capture would most certainly have followed. 
There appeared to be only one way out of the dilemma, 
which was for me to personate my cousin. I was all 
the more willing to do so because we had the strongest 
hopes at that time of arranging for the safe convey¬ 
ance of Lord Killigew overseas as soon as his health 
permitted of it; and therefore believed the deception 
would only be required to be persisted in until such 
time as my cousin and her husband and Lord Lovet, 
her brother, were in safety, after which my father 
intended to confess the whole story to you, your High¬ 
ness, and to pay what penalty you thought fit—as I 
explained to your Highness previously. The unfore¬ 
seen confusing of the person of Lord Killigew with 
that of Charles Stuart, however, put an end to all our 
hopes of getting his lordship quickly out of England. 
All the ports were of course immediately closely 
watched, and all wayfarers obliged to account for them¬ 
selves, and it was with the greatest difficulty that Lord 
Killigew was conveyed out of Devon, and every hour 
he was in danger. It was then that Masterman con- 


‘‘HAVE YOU GOT THE MAN?” 265 


ceived the idea of his lordship entering Rookherst 
as footman in the place of Forster. To me the plan 
sir, was most repugnant; I shrank from it—not, I beg 
you to believe, from cowardice or lack of loyal affec¬ 
tion for my relative, but because it seemed to me to 
be an odious thing to practise a further deception upon 
you in this manner. 

“My hands were forced, however, and when, after 
several communications had been exchanged between 
Lord Killigew and us, it became clear that unless we 
could give him shelter his capture was inevitable, I 
acquiesced, and the plan was duly carried out, with, as 
it seemed, entire success. I cannot tell you with what 
relief I saw the tangle seemingly unravel itself before 
us. Lord Killigew was not recognized, thanks to his 
drastic disguise; the alarm about Charles Stuart died 
down; and the way for smuggling the supposed foot¬ 
man out of the country seemed to be quite easy. But 
you know, sir, how far astray went our plans and 
how heavily punished I have been for my sin.” 

She ceased speaking abruptly, and I averted my 
eyes from her face. I could not look upon her tears. 

Cromwell also appeared ill at ease. He cleared his 
throat several times and scowled gloomily at the table, 
tapping it the while with his knuckles. 

Presently he remarked: 

“You had better finish the tale, I think, madam, 
since you have got so far.” 

Bravely she took up the thread of her story again. 


266 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“When you left Rookherst, sir, the day before 
yesterday, to go to London in response to your sum¬ 
mons, it seemed to us that no time should be lost, for 
we feared you had begun to suspect us. We opened 
your cabinet and obtained the passport. A messenger 
was then sent to Lady Killigew, who was taking my 
place at Tunhill, instructing her to meet us at a pre¬ 
viously arranged rendezvous, where my cousin and I 
were to exchange our identities again. The plan was 
for Lord and Lady Killigew to continue the journey 
to Dover, while I intended returning at once to Rook¬ 
herst, in order to be there by the time you came back, 
when I should have confessed the truth to you as soon 
as I had ascertained that my relatives were in safety. 
Owing to a series of mishaps, however, our meeting 
was so greatly delayed that I could not make the re¬ 
turn journey the same day, and therefore decided to 
wait till morning, never dreaming that you would 
return from London yourself the same night, sir. 
Soon after dawn, however, Masterman arrived at the 
inn where I and my maid lodged. In spite of the 
accident which had befallen him, Masterman had taken 
horse immediately after you left for Dover, and ridden 
post-haste to inform us of how the situation stood. 

“It became, of course, clear to me at once that my 
presence would be required in London, whichever way 
events turned,” she added simply. 

“Why?” Keen anxiety lent sharpness to my tone. 

She gave me a grave, direct glance. 


“HAVE YOU GOT THE MAN?” 267 

“If you had arrested Lord Killigew, sir, I should 
have been required to explain the situation, and if you 
had failed to secure him, or by any chance permitted 
him to go free, I should be required even more, if 
perchance I might avail to appeal for the life of a 
brave man who was willing to suffer for another, and 
that other no friend of his.” 

The protector’s harsh voice here broke in. 

“Well, madam, you have made your story appear 
as plausible as it is possible to make it. I repeat, how¬ 
ever, that I must have the strongest proofs before I 
can accept it. I therefore propose to send a safe- 
conduct pass to the supposed Lady Killigew to enable 
her to come here in person, so that I may judge for 
myself of this extraordinary likeness. If this tale is 
true, then, General Williams, it appears to me you 
have been finely duped all round. You have, it would 
seem, been tricked out of a wife, an heiress, and an 
estate, and it is a little difficult to know where you 
stand legally. 

“If, however, it should turn out that this tale is 
merely a fabrication to give you a loophole of escape, 
then woe betide you, my friend, for I warn you your 
fate will not be a pleasant one. I would also make 
it quite clear to yourself and to this lady that although 
the presence of this lady’s double, as the real Lady 
Killigew, will afford a certain extenuation for your 
conduct, there is only one thing which can save you 
from the severest punishment, and that is the surrender 


268 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

of that person, whoever he is, whom you suffered to 
escape. 

“For the present, and until such reasonable time as 
is required for communications to be exchanged be¬ 
tween the parties concerned, you will be lodged in the 
Tower, General Williams.” 

He rang the bell again sharply, and this time an 
officer and two soldiers entered the room. 

“There is your prisoner. Carry out your instruc¬ 
tions,” commanded Oliver briefly. 

The men took up their position one on either side 
of me, preparatory to marching me forth, when my 
lady took a step forward. 

“Your Highness, I crave a favor. May I be per¬ 
mitted to bid my husband farewell?” 

Cromwell bent his penetrating gaze upon her face 
for a second, and I saw, with a thrill of pride, how 
unflinchingly my lady’s blue eyes encountered it. 
Then, “You have my permission, madam,” he answered 
gruffly. 

Swiftly and unhesitatingly she came toward me 
where I stood stiffly at attention between my guards; 
the next instant she was courtesying low before me; 
then taking one of my hands in her own she raised 
it to her lips, and I felt her warm kiss upon it. 

I felt something besides: my hand was wet with her 
tears. 


CHAPTER XVII 


SENTENCED 

A MAN has leisure enough to pass through a 
whole gamut of feeling during eight weeks’ 
solitary confinement in a dimly lit cell. I 
entered that cell a surprisingly happy man, considering 
the fact I was still under sentence of death as far as 
I knew. 

For the first day or two my heart was too full of a 
song of thanksgiving on account of the reestablish¬ 
ment therein of my lady’s image in all its purity and 
nobleness to occupy itself with my own immediate 
fate. 

Soon, however, a reaction had set in. My ideal cer¬ 
tainly was unimpaired, my lady had acted throughout 
with all the unselfish courage I could have expected of 
her, but this fact no longer served to content me. I 
was still alive, still a restless male creature, craving 
something more warm and satisfying than even the 
most perfect rectitude of conduct, the most selfish pity 
and gentlest commiseration. My lady had wet my hand 
with her tears of compassion; she had spoken with 

sincere appreciation of what she considered my right 

269 


270 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


conduct. That was gratifying, but it was not sufficing. 

As the days and weeks passed by, my mind swung 
like a pendulum, miserably alternating between hope 
and despair—one day daring to believe that my lady 
did actually love me, as a woman loves a man, the next 
bitterly ridiculing myself for pretending to mistake 
natural womanly pity for anything else. 

Gradually even this oscillation ceased; there is 
nothing so undermining to hope in whatever form 
as solitary confinement for any length of time. 

By the end of two months without a visit or a 
message from the outside world, I had become prey to 
a melancholy past describing. 

It was in this mood that Mr. Secretary Thurloe 
found me when he arrived one morning, precise and 
dapper, irreproachably dressed, with his habitually 
unruffled expression of countenance. 

He greeted me kindly, as was ever his wont. 

“I greatly regret that you have been kept in durance 
for so long a period, General,” he said. “It has been 
a most unfortunate necessity, owing to the fact that in 
spite of repeated inquiries we have been unsuccessful 
in all our efforts to get into communication with Lord 
and Lady Killigew. They have not yet reached Co¬ 
logne, and young Lord Lovet professes to know 
nothing of their whereabouts. They appear to have 
vanished completely, and you can see for yourself how 
seriously this fact must militate against you. His 
Highness, however, with his usual love of justice, has 


SENTENCED 


271 


taken pains to collect all the evidence he can in your 
favor, and by means of a number of witnesses he has 
become convinced of the truth of the strange story of 
your marriage and the deception of which you were 
the victim. In view of -the extenuating circumstances, 
therefore, his Highness is disposed to be merciful to 
your fault, grave though it be, -and the death-sentence 
which would otherwise have been your due is to be 
commuted to one of imprisonment for life. The lord 
protector will see you personally, and my private 
barge is awaiting at the steps. If you give me your 
parole, sir, to make no attempt to escape, we can fore¬ 
go the publicity of a guard and row quietly together 
to Whitehall.” 

I thanked him gravely and gave the necessary 
promise, realizing how kindly meant was his proposal. 
On the journey I thought I would try and get scfme 
light upon a problem that had been agitating my mind, 
and inquired whether the exclusion of all visitors had 
been of deliberate intention on the part of the authori¬ 
ties. 

“Yes, I fear it was,” he replied. “His Highness 
thought it advisable that there should be no communi¬ 
cation between you and the other parties concerned, as 
he desired to make sure there would be no collabora¬ 
tion in the witnesses’ stories. We received a great 
number of requests for permission to visit you from 
your friends and relatives; particularly insistent, of 
course, was your wife.” He paused a moment, then 


272 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


added with a sidelong glance, “Mistress Williams 
appears to be a woman of unusual determination and 
courage, in addition to being endowed with so much 
personal charm.” 

About half an hour later I was again in the presence 
of the lord protector. 

As I crossed the threshold in the immediate rear of 
the secretary of state, I became aware that the room 
we were entering was already well filled. 

Behind the long table facing the doorway sat Crom¬ 
well, and on either side of him two or three officers of 
senior rank, lending the air of a court martial to the 
proceedings, while between the table and the door, 
lining two of the walls, stood a number of other per¬ 
sons, some known and some unknown to me. 

Involuntarily I paused a second, as my gaze 
traveled quickly over the scene, for among the persons 
standing silently there were my lady, her parents and 
brother, Masterman and my man Saunders, and my 
lady’s maid, the pretty Privet Joy. 

Cromwell waited until I had taken up the position 
assigned to me immediately opposite him. 

Then he began to speak gravely and slowly: 

“Major-General Williams, I have now sent for you 
because it seems to me and to these gentlemen beside 
me, your fellow-officers, who have considered your 
case with me, that enough time has been allowed to 
pass in the futile effort to obtain further witnesses in 
your favor. We have done all we could to get in com- 


SENTENCED 


273 


munication with certain persons who might have 
materially assisted you in your present position, but it 
has been in vain. 

“I therefore am forced into the belief that these 
persons do not intend to come forward, or even to com¬ 
municate with us on your behalf. However, in spite 
of this default on their part, I have been persuaded by 
numerous witnesses, the majority of whom are here 
present, of the truth of your unusual story. This 
being so, it has been decided to soften the rigor of your 
sentence. I now offer you the choice of two alterna¬ 
tives, General: you may either decide at once or be 
given three days in which to do so, if you prefer to 
think over the matter. 

“In either case, it is a life-sentence, in view of the 
gravity of your offense and the deliberate nature of the 
same. I give it to you to choose between detention 
for life in the Tower or some other prison in the realm, 
with such facilities as are usual for having your rela¬ 
tives near you, retaining your rank as it is—or to be 
publicly degraded to the ranks and suffer banishment 
to the West Indies, there to serve under Major-Gen¬ 
eral Fortescue.” He paused, and then added, “You 
may, if you desire it, take three days to consider the 
matter, as I said before.” 

“Thank you, your Highness,” I replied without 
hesitation. “I can give my answer at once. I 
choose the second alternative, and am grateful to your 
Highness for the option you have given me.” 


274 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


The protector gave me a long, steady look. 

“Remember all it means, Williams. You will find 
the public degradation hard to bear. Serving in a 
lowly position afterward will be galling, and, besides, 
the climate of Jamaica is such that in the army our 
losses from sickness alone are enormous and scarcely 
bear thinking thereon. I urge you to weigh the 
matter carefully and take your leisure to decide.” 

Our eyes met, for the only time in my experience, 
as man to man, not as chief and subordinate. 

“In my place, sir, you would make the same de¬ 
cision,” I said simply, hardly realizing whom I was 
addressing. 

He smiled one of his sudden extraordinarily at¬ 
tractive smiles, which lit -up his harsh, severe face as 
the sunlight plays over a rugged mountain-side. 

“You divine rightly. To you, as to me, it seems,, 
Williams, it is decreed we shall serve our country at 
all costs. But I fear me we worship a fickle mistress 
—one who will lavish caress and praise one day and 
the next spurn her lovers and repay their devotion 
with hatred and insult. Happiness enough, however, 
to have loved and served her and perchance added to 
the glory of her name. 

“So be it, Williams; you shall go out to fight our 
battles in the great warfare which is begun in the West 
—a warfare, as I am convinced,—and I believe I am 
taught of the Holy Spirit,—which is according to God’s 
mind, being even against that Roman Babylon of 


SENTENCED 


^75 

which the Spaniard is the great under-propper. In 
that respect we fight the Lord’s battles; in this the 
Scriptures are most plain. He has a controversy with 
our enemies, and, even though for our sins and short¬ 
comings it has pleased Him of late to punish us and 
to put us to shame and reproach in the sad loss sus¬ 
tained at Hispaniola, yet I verily believe it is still His 
will to set up His banner where before our enemies 
bowed down to their idols. He hath smitten us in¬ 
deed for our sins that the glory might be for His name 
alone, yet now will He bind us up and raise us up to 
serve Him better. You have, it is in my mind to add, 
chosen well, Williams. May the Lord therefore 
strengthen you with faith and cleanse you from all 
evil, that you may fight manfully on His side, and re¬ 
establish your loyalty, which has of late been unhappily 
tarnished through personal considerations. May the 
covenant-fear of the Lord be upon you, to keep you 
from harm.” 

With the last solemn words the protector raised his 
hand, as though invoking God’s protection and blessing 
upon me. 

Had I doubted the sincerity of this strange man I 
should have chafed beneath such a harangue, uttered 
at such a moment, in such circumstances, but so great 
was his personal ascendancy, so commanding his 
visionary ideals, and so overwhelming his belief in him¬ 
self as being inspired by God that I, for one, and, I 
believe every other person in that room at that mo- 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


276 

ment, stood with reverently bowed head while he called 
upon the name of the Almighty, and held up his hand 
in benediction. 

A strange manner, indeed, it might seem for one 
man to pass a life-sentence of exile upon another, but, 
far from feeling the least desire to rebel against either 
the man or his decree, or even the manner of pro¬ 
nouncing that decree, I was conscious only of a strong 
desire to prove myself worthy of this man’s belief in 
me, to win his commendation and reestablish myself in 
his favor and confidence, and possibly above all I de¬ 
sired to strive even as he strove for the honor of the 
country he loved so passionately, and from whose 
bowels I had sprung, whose soil clung to my hands— 
low-born son of a peasant that I was. 

The silence immediately following upon the pro¬ 
tector’s speech was broken by a familiar voice from 
my left. 

“And it please Your Highness to pardon a liberty, 
may I make a request? 1 ’ 

All eyes were turned upon honest Saunders, who had 
stepped forward, his handsome viking-like counte¬ 
nance aglow with a deep flush. 

Cromwell, who held this type of manly soldier in 
high esteem as a breed created at the outset by his own 
effort and example, replied urbanely enough: 

“Speak on, my man. I would hear your request.” 

“It is but this, sir, that I may be permitted to accom¬ 
pany my master abroad when he goes.” 


SENTENCED 


277 

Cromwell’s face softened, and he turned a kindly 
expression to me. 

“You are not lacking in well-wishers, Williams. 
Captain Lovet has already desired to bear the penalty 
of your lapse from duty in your place; and now your 
man craves permission to share it with you.” 

I glanced across the room to where Captain Lovet 
stood beside his father, and I noticed for the first time 
the haggard look of his handsome face. 

The fine dark eyes which met mine were full of 
misery and futile rebellion. 

“God knows, sir,” he broke out passionately, turning 
toward the table, “I was sincere when I said death 
would be preferable to me than the bitter regret I 
shall now always carry with me, knowing that a brave 
man has suffered thus for generous dealing with our 
family.” 

Cromwell nodded, as though comprehending the 
speaker’s outlook. 

“Had this view been taken by all the members of 
your family, Captain Lovet,” he remarked gravely, 
“General Williams would not be standing there. Un¬ 
fortunately, there is only one person who can bear his 
punishment for him, and that person is not here. We 
have waited for him, but he tarries over-long. Gen¬ 
eral Williams acted with his eyes open—deliberately 
braving me. He knew the conditions were a life for 
a life. He allowed personal considerations to out¬ 
weigh duty, knowing, and intending to pay the pen- 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


278 

alty. That penalty must be paid. I cannot go back 
upon my word beyond what I have already gone in 
commuting his death-sentence to one of exile in his 
country’s service. As for you, my man,” turning to 
Saunders, “your request is of a different nature. 
Have you no home ties? Are you a single man?” 

To my surprise, Saunders hesitated and shifted un¬ 
easily from one foot to another. 

“Come, I asked you a question; answer it,” insisted 
the protector, somewhat sharply. “Have you a wife?” 

“Yes, your Highness; quite a recent one, though,” 
stammered poor Saunders, blushing like a girl through 
his clear skin. 

“Recent or no, you are married, my man, at any 
rate,” retorted Cromwell with a grim smile. “Your 
wife has a claim on you.” 

“Yes, sir; I know, your Highness, but my master’s 
claim is the oldest,” said the soldier boldly, in spite of 
the perspiration which had now begun to trickle down 
his temples. 

“And so you would deliberately desert your wife to 
accompany your master to a far-off land from which, 
I fear, few of our brave fellows ever return? It 
sounds somewhat unnatural to me. Either your love 
for your master must be a passion, or else your love 
for your wife cannot be very deep, methinks. Per¬ 
haps you have married in haste and now repent it at 
leisure, and desire to bury your regret in exile?” 

Saunders’s boyish face worked. 


SENTENCED 


279 

“I— er —I—did marry in haste, sir/’ he muttered 
incoherently, “but I—I—er—have not repented it, as 
I feared I might; that is, I feared it might not be the 
Lord’s will that I should marry her—but I think it 
must have been. I have no desire to—to—desert my 
wife, for I am very fond of her—too fond,. I some¬ 
times fear, for my growth in grace,” he stumbled on 
miserably. 

It spoke volumes for Cromwell’s capacity for under¬ 
standing men of this genus and entering into their 
feelings that he listened attentively and with quite a 
serious face to the good fellow’s confused utterances* 

“I think I catch your meaning,” he said at length. 
“You fear you may have acted without duly inquiring 
of the Lord for guidance in this matter. We all of us 
are prone to similar error, but God is merciful, even 
as a father, and often overrules our petulant self-will 
and gives us blessings unasked. As touching this 
question of your going abroad, however, now that you 
have undertaken this new responsibility, I cannot think 
you have the right to act as you might, had you been 
a free agent. Your duty is at present to remain with 
your wi-fe.” 

“He can still do that, your Highness, and yet follow 
his master,” calmly interposed a clear treble voice from 
behind us, “if your Highness will give his wife per¬ 
mission to accompany him to Jamaica.” 

Cromwell and all of us turned amazed faces upon 
the new speaker. 


28 o 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“You are Lady Killigew’s maid,” exclaimed the pro¬ 
tector. “Am I to understand that you are also this 
man’s wife?” 

“Yes, your Highness; we were married last week.” 

“Small wonder he did not pause to inquire of the 
Lord!” ejaculated Cromwell, with a laugh, and with 
that curious irreverence which sometimes characterized 
his remarks. 

He gazed at the pretty creature with frank and 
kindly admiration. 

“As to your accompanying your husband to the West 
Indies, that is totally out of the question,” he said. 
“It is no climate for women.” 

“But I am partly Irish, your Highness.” 

“Well, what of that?” inquired the protector, 
knitting his brows with a slightly puzzled air. “Is 
the climate of Jamaica more suitable for the Irish?” 

“I do not know, your Highness, but I thought it 
might be, as I have been told your Highness is sending 
out there a thousand Irish girls.” 

I caught in my breath, and there fell an ominous hush 
over the room. For a moment Oliver bent his terrible 
stare upon the daring speaker, but that minx met it 
with roguish Irish gray eyes and dimpling cheeks— 
all saying as plainly as possible: 

“Ah! I had you that time, your noble Highness. 
Now, how are you going to deal with me?” 

And his noble Highness dealt with her with his 
usual unexpectedness. 


SENTENCED 


281 

Throwing himself back in his chair, he gave vent 
to a great laugh which rang out loudly and genuinely 
through the petrified silence. 

“Upon my word,” he declared, “you deserve to be 
put in the stocks for your impudence; and yet I like 
your courage. Let me tell you, however, that those 
women, Irish or Scotch or whatever they be, who are 
sent out to the Indies are women of loose and light 
conduct, whose riddance is of benefit to this realm.” 

The pretty Privet essayed to look crestfallen, and 
hung her head shyly. 

“What a pity, your Highness,” she murmured 
softly, “as they are sent out to people these new lands, 
that there should be no virtuous women among them to 
raise up a godly and manly race to the glory of our 
nation.” 

Cromwell brought his hand down heavily upon the 
table. 

“I declare,” he said, “if there were more of your 
character, mistress, such a race would be nurtured there 
that no Spaniard would ever again dare to put foot 
on the shores of that land, far away though it be from 
the mother country and her help and protection. If 
you wish to go, go; and may the Almighty bless you 
and make you as a fruitful vine.” 

I could not suppress a little stab of jealousy within 
me as I caught the look of triumph which the wilful 
Privet shot at her great, confused, shamefaced hus¬ 
band. She had got her own way and succeeded in 


282 MY LADY’S BARGAIN 

getting his request granted also, and she was enjoying 
her triumph. 

I deliberately reined in my glance so that it did not 
extend to that spot where stood my lady by the side of 
her mother. Unbidden, the thought arose: my wife 
had not asked to be allowed to accompany me. An¬ 
grily I chided myself for entertaining the idea even 
for a second. I could not picture my lady in such a 
setting: a land of blasting heat, racking fever, inhabi¬ 
ted by a few savages and as many filthy, dusky Span¬ 
iards, and overrun by immense droves of wild cattle— 
a land of chaos already become the cemetery of thou¬ 
sands of Englishmen, and likely to be the grave of 
thousands more, for the daily death-rate among the 
soldiers and settlers was known to be frightful. 

I could not have accepted any such sacrifice on my 
lady’s part in any case. Why, then, should I presume 
to feel aggrieved even for a moment because she had 
not acted as Saunders’ scatter-brained minx of a wife 
had acted, and with equal lack of forethought and 
knowledge ? 

Ah! the young malapert has now slipped her hand 
into that viking’s great palm. Good heavens! what a 
complexion the man has!—a court lady would pay a 
fortune for it. 

A momentary silence had fallen over the room. 
Cromwell had turned to examine a file of papers 
placed before him by one of the officers at his side and 
was busy affixing his signature to one of them. I 


SENTENCED 


283 

supposed it was connected with my sentence, and with 
an odd fascination watched his pen performing its 
scrawly journey. So much absorbed was I in fol¬ 
lowing the scratchy movement of the quill that I was 
hardly conscious of a stir at the door behind me, until 
an attendant passed me by and, approaching the Secre¬ 
tary Thurloe, stooped and whispered something in his 
ear. 

Thurloe looked up sharply, his face strangely alert. 
Rising to his feet, he went behind the protector’s chair 
and in his turn bent and whispered to him. Crom¬ 
well paused in his writing and, raising his head, threw 
a quick glance in the direction of the door. 

“Is that so?” he ejaculated. “Let them be called 
in, then.” 

Instinctively all our eyes followed the direction of 
his glance, and in the expectant pause which followed 
a wild surmise played havoc with my composure. I 
was, I confess it, a prey to the most acute nervousness 
by the time the door opened again to admit the entrance 
of the two persons I had in my mind. 

Lord and Lady Killigew. 

In spite of the premonition I had had, I could not 
repress a violent start at the sight of them, and by a 
curious fatality I realized that the eyes of both the 
new-comers had in some strange way been attracted 
first to my person, and were fixed upon me, all unwill¬ 
ingly, as it seemed to me, observing my painful dis¬ 
composure and being affected by it themselves. 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


284 

Lord Killigew, who looked wretchedly ill and walked 
slowly like a sick man, averted his eyes from my face 
and turned them upon the forbidding figure seated at 
the table. 

Cromwell watched his advance for a few seconds in 
frowning silence; then he remarked harshly: 

“So you have come, Lord Killigew, at length.” 

“Yes, your Highness. I deeply regret the delay, 
but, if I mistake not, fate has for once dealt kindly 
with me. I am in time, sir, I take it?” 

“In time for what?” asked his Highness. 

Lord Killigew smiled, slightly derisively. 

“In time to be hung, your Highness.” 

“Is that what you have returned for?” inquired 
Cromwell, without a smile. 

“Well, whichever fate you have reserved for me, 
sir: hanging or beheading, it matters not which so 
long as I attain my object,” replied Killigew flippantly; 
but for all the outward calmness of the man his ex¬ 
treme bodily weakness could not be hidden. 

Cromwell made a sign to one of the attendants. 

“Fetch his lordship a chair; you are a sick man, my 
Lord.” 

Killigew set his lips more firmly still. 

“I have been ill, sir. That is the only cause of this 
unfortunate delay. I was struck down with a fever 
as soon as I landed in France, and, there being a fear 
that it was infectious, my wife was forced to have me 
conveyed to an out-of-the-way hovel off the main track 


SENTENCED 


285 

of travelers. There she nursed me back to life, but, 
as fate would have it, all our letters informing Lord 
Lovet of our whereabouts miscarried, and in conse¬ 
quence we received none of the communications from 
England until a week ago. Even then our voyage was 
delayed by the recent storms. I am grateful to 
heaven, however, that I am even now in time to pre¬ 
vent an injustice being done.” 

“The injustice being-?” 

Lord Killigew looked steadily into Cromwell’s eyes, 
fair and square. 

“The injustice being that a brave and loyal gentle¬ 
man should bear the fate intended for another, your 
Highness. I am here to place myself unreservedly in 
your hands—to confess to having taken up arms 
against the Commonwealth, to have lain in disguise for 
months, and passed as dead, to have stolen and made 
use of a passport for my own purposes, whereby I 
escaped across the sea. And to have traded upon 
the generosity of General Williams and unwittingly 
brought him into his present position in your disfavor. 
The only boon I crave at your hands, sir, is to be 
permitted to hear you, when you pronounce my 
sentence, pronounce also a pardon for General Wil¬ 
liams.” 

Cromwell made no immediate reply. Instead, his 
glance wandered to the silent figure of the woman who 
stood by the side of the self-condemned Royalist. 
Then he turned toward my lady. 



286 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


“Madam, will you oblige me by coming forward 
and standing beside your cousin ?” 

My lady obeyed instantly, and when the two women 
stood side by side I realized that, extraordinary as was 
the resemblance, there were little differences which 
might easily pass undetected when the cousins were 
apart from one another. 

Lady Killigew was slightly the taller, her cheeks 
paler and a little less rounded, but these last dissimi¬ 
larities could well be of recent growth, considering 
the anxiety and fatigue she had suffered of late. 

After a moment’s close observation of the two 
cousins Cromwell exclaimed: 

“The likeness is amazing. I do not wonder now 
that you were entirely hoodwinked, Williams. When 
did you learn of the fact that your husband was alive, 
Lady Killigew? You recall the date, no doubt?” 

“Yes, your Highness; it was the fifteenth of June.” 

“Lord Killigew was supposed to have met his death 
on March eleventh,” commented Oliver thoughtfully. 
“It must have been within a few days, then, of re¬ 
ceiving the proposed contract of marriage with Gen¬ 
eral Williams that you learned you were not a 
widow ?” 

Lady Killigew’s fair face flushed slightly. 

“I think I received the communication from your 
Highness indicating your choice of a suitor for my 
hand on June eighth.” 

“Yes, I recall it was something about that date, and, 


SENTENCED 


287 

if I remember rightly, you expressed considerable un¬ 
willingness to accept the choice selected; so much so, 
indeed, that I suspected some deeper reason than the 
one you were pleased to give, which was that General 
Williams was not of the same social standing as your¬ 
self. Had you any other reason?” 

“The reason I gave, sir, was, I think, sufficient,” she 
replied, with a touch of that hauteur so familiar to me. 

Cromwell had not removed his steady gaze from her 
face during this conversation. 

He now remarked coolly: 

“You are not speaking the entire truth, my Lady. 
You had some reason behind that, I take it. I intend 
to unravel this pretty affair to my satisfaction before 
I finish with it, and until I am satisfied I will detain you 
all in my custody. Now, madam, will you be pleased 
to tell me the whole truth? What had you against 
General Williams besides his birth? He has already 
informed me of the main facts of his early career, 
namely, that he was a laborer upon your father’s es¬ 
tate at Rookherst, but left the locality about the age of 
seventeen, never to return save on short visits. Did 
you come into any contact with him during any of 
those visits?” 

With considerable perturbation of mind I began to 
see where this cross-examination might lead. If the 
story of the blow and its sequel, the kiss and midnight 
escapade at Rookherst, came to light, my present po¬ 
sition would certainly not be improved. As my 


288 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


thoughts ran back over the past, all the old vehement 
feelings I had experienced rose up before my mind. I 
stared at the tall stately woman with her haughty 
bearing, standing within a few paces of me, with an 
amazed sense of incredulity that I could ever have 
been such a fool as to have striven and suffered for, 
hated and loved her so vainly, so madly, stretched out 
my hands to her and seemingly held her in my grasp, 
only to discover that she had eluded me at the last, 
and that I had been panting after a beautiful phantom, 
chasing a chimera of my own imagination. 

With a queer revulsion of feeling I saw now with a 
clearness as never before that, even had I been able 
to obtain my heart’s desire and had got to wife the 
flesh-and-blood reality, she would not have satisfied me. 
I should never have won her love, and I might have 
grown to loathe the sight of her, in the bitterness of 
my disappointment. 

As I stood there, awaiting her reply to Cromwell's 
interrogation, I felt instinctively that there was not 
indifference but a strong personal aversion for me on 
her side. I had felt it before, in the tavern at Dover, 
to my utter confusion of mind, for I had no key to the 
puzzle then as I had now. 

It must have been bitter indeed to the proud woman 
to see her idolized husband going to his death, while 
the man she disliked with all the energy of her passion¬ 
ate, wayward nature, and whom she probably connected 
with her misfortune, went free. She had it in her 


SENTENCED 


289 

power to do me an injury at that moment, and by a 
few words to cast me back into disgrace. 

“I am awaiting your reply, madam. I wish to know 
whether you met General Williams after he left Rook- 
herst as a young man, and, if so, how often, and in 
what circumstances?” 

I failed to see how she would escape from this 
terrible inquisition, even with the best endeavor 
possible, but I did not know her. She faced him fear¬ 
lessly. 

“Your Highness, since you will probe old wounds, 
I will no longer try to avoid laying them bare. My 
dislike to General Williams began before he left Rook- 
herst as a young man. He behaved in an unmannerly 
way to me one day, as I deemed it, being only a spoiled 
child of thirteen. I struck him with my whip in my 
anger, and my father, fearing he might try to revenge 
himself, had him deported out of the country. Years 
after that he came back, and, in order to exact what 
he considered just payment for the injury I had done 
him, he forced me to kiss him! I have never for¬ 
given him that humiliation, and never shall. There! 
your Highness, you have the truth in a nutshell. Your 
intimate knowledge of human nature will inform you 
that there is no animosity so great as that of a vain 
woman who has had her self-esteem pricked. I am 
that woman. Can you understand, sir, now, why I 
showed such aversion to the choice your Highness 
made ?” 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


290 

Cromwell’s stern face relaxed into a slight smile. 

“I think I can, madam,” he said. “I am not satis¬ 
fied you have told me all the truth, but you have told 
me enough to make the matter clearer. You may be 
a vain woman, Lady Killigew, but I think you are a 
courageous one, and I fancy your experiences of late 
may have taught you valuable lessons. I only regret 
that your mistaken principles should have led you and 
your husband into rebellious actions against the state 
which have brought you to this unfortunate position. 

“Lord Killigew, you will be brought to trial in the 
usual way in due course; until then, instead of commit¬ 
ting you to the Tower, I give you permission, on your 
parole, to lodge where you choose, in view of the state 
of your health. You will communicate your address 
to the secretary of state. 

“General Williams, although you have, on your own 
confession, failed in your duty, I propose to give you a 
free pardon because of the agreement there was be¬ 
tween us that it should be either you or Lord Killigew 
who should bear the penalty. 

“Your only punishment will be the forfeiture of your 
illegally acquired estate. I propose to confiscate the 
entire property of Rookherst and to put it up for sale, 
the moneys to be considered as just payment of all the 
expenses the state is put to on account of the restless 
temper of such Royalists as yourself, Lady Killigew. 

“Sir Reginald Lovet, in view of the part you played 
in this deception, you will be fined to an amount to be 


SENTENCED 


291 

decided upon later. Captain Lovet, I should be justi¬ 
fied in depriving you of your commission, but in con¬ 
sideration of your past services and gallantry in the 
field I intend to overlook your misdemeanor this 
time. ,, 

With which last words the protector rose abruptly to 
his feet, indicating that the inquiry was at an end. 

I took a step forward and saluted. 

“Well, what is it?” he demanded sharply. 

“Will you give me permission, your Highness, to 
serve in the West Indies under General Fortescue for 
a year?” 

“Why?” 

“I have a strong desire, sir, to reestablish your con¬ 
fidence in my loyalty, if I can do so,” I replied. 

“And may I accompany General Williams, for the 
same motive, sir?” 

It was Captain Lovet who now spoke. Cromwell 
regarded us steadily for a few seconds. 

“Very well, gentlemen. I accept your proposal. 
It is an honorable one.” Then, as if suddenly rec¬ 
ollecting something, he turned quickly toward my 
lady. 

“In this case, though, Mistress Williams, my prom¬ 
ise to you does not hold good. As your husband will 
only be going for a twelvemonth, I cannot permit you 
to accompany him.’’ 

My brain whirled. Had my lady, then, a previous 
understanding with his Highness? Had she actually 


292 


MY LADY'S BARGAIN 


obtained permission to go into exile with me? I 
tried to catch her eye, but she deliberately avoided 
mine; as she dropped a demure courtesy to Cromwell, 
her lips nevertheless set rebelli'ously. I gathered from 
the way in which his usually stern mouth twitched that 
his Highness also noted those rebellious curves and ap¬ 
preciated them. 

He now turned away from us and strode heavily 
to the door, followed by the other officers and by 
Thurloe, all of whom paused to shake me kindly by 
the hand in passing. 

Save for a few subordinate officials, we were there¬ 
upon left alone in the apartment—an ill-assorted fam¬ 
ily party, each awkwardly aware of the constraint 
between us. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A FAMILY PARTY 

I WAS the first to make a move. As was natural, 
I walked across to Lord Killigew. 

“I have to thank you, my Lord, for saving me 
at such cost to yourself. It was only what one would 
expect from one of your character, and my thanks are 
small repayment, I fear.” 

He smiled at me that whimsical smile I remembered. 
“That reminds me, Williams,” he said. “I have 
learned that there are some circumstances which are too 
strong for even gentlemen of honor. I fear I shall be 
unable to meet you now, as I proposed. Perhaps, how¬ 
ever, we may consider ourselves quits. What say 
you?” 

We shook hands. 

“I can only earnestly hope that the protector will 
act mercifully,” I exclaimed. 

“Thanks. I believe you have all along wished me 
well, General; throughout my misfortunes—misfor¬ 
tunes, by the way, not brought upon me entirely 
through drink,” he added, with an irrepressible grin. 
The fellow, I felt convinced, would go to his death 

293 


294 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


with a smile and a joke. He became grave the next 
moment, however, and his eyes wandered across the 
room to where his wife stood conversing in an under¬ 
tone with Lady Lovet and my lady. “It is on my 
wife’s account I am troubled,” he said in a lowered 
tone. “She has already suffered much on my account. 
Will you speak with her, Williams, to show her you 
bear no ill-will toward her?” 

“That surely should require no assurance,” I ex¬ 
claimed. “How could I bear ill-will after what you 
and she have both done for me to-day ?’ 

“Well, I should like you to speak with her, if you 
will. I will attract her attention. Rosamond!” 

Lady Killigew looked round, and then came delib¬ 
erately towards us. 

Our eyes met, and I again caught that flash of resent¬ 
ment she could not control, even as she held out her 
hand. I bowed low over it, as it lay cold and passive 
in mine. 

“You have much to forgive me, sir,” she said in a 
low, grave voice. 

“I have nothing to forgive, madam,” I replied with 
equal gravity. “If there was any blame due, it should 
be upon me for my headstrong folly; I can only trust 
that your misfortunes have not been aggravated by 
any action I took.” 

“We all seem to have been the puppets of some 
freakish fortune,” she said sadly. “I see now had I 


A FAMILY PARTY 


295 


acted throughout with honesty and left the issues to 
God, it would have been wiser, for worldly wisdom 
fails in the end.” 

I could only bow again over the white hand, for I 
knew she spoke the truth. It had been a hard lesson 
for her to learn, and we had each had to learn it. 

“Can I be of any aid in finding suitable lodgings for 
you and Lord Killigew, madam?” I inquired, in order 
to change the subject to one less personal. 

“Thank you, sir. My uncle, Sir Reginald, will do 
that. We will lodge with them for the present in 
the Strand. Here is my uncle, wishing to speak with 
you, I think.” 

Turning round, I found myself face to face with 
the baronet and his lady; my own dear lady stood 
aloof beside her brother, I noticed, and my heart flut¬ 
tered as I wondered how we should meet at last. 
There seemed to be so many unavoidable hindrances 
to our doing so. The old baronet held out his hand, 
after I had bowed to his wife and kissed her delicate 
beringed fingers in silence. 

“I shall be honored if you will shake hands with me, 
General Williams,” began Sir Reginald. “I could not 
bring myself to offer you my hand before, knowing 
that I was not dealing fairly with you; but, now that 
you know all, will you clasp hands with an old man 
who has bitterly regretted deceiving a man of honor ?” 

We clasped hands warmly, and I recalled the morn*: 



MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


296 

ing I rode away from Tunhill, filled with the desire to 
be admitted into this man’s family on equal terms. 

One more pause on my way to my lady. 

The steward caught my eye. 

He looked so downhearted and aged that my sym¬ 
pathy went out to him, and I could not pass him by 
without a word. 

“Cheer up, Masterman,” I exclaimed, putting my 
hand on that resolute shoulder. “While there is life 
there is hope. Lord Killigew has many and powerful 
friends, and I think we have good grounds for hoping 
that mercy will be extended to him. He is a sick man 
and will not desire to mix himself up with politics 
again, which his Highness will realize. This war with 
Spain, too, will tend to quiet the many factions at home 
and relieve the Government of fears of insurrection 
for some time to come, all of which facts will im¬ 
prove his lordship’s position and chance of a re¬ 
prieve.” 

The faithful steward’s face brightened up consid¬ 
erably. 

“Think you so, really, sir? That is good news. I 
should be a happy man indeed, if I could die still serv¬ 
ing my lord and his lady.” 

“No need to talk of dying yet, Masterman,” said I, 
“unless you happen to shoot off a pistol by mischance 
and hit yourself. You must really be careful how you 
handle firearms, you know.” 


A FAMILY PARTY 


297 

He permitted his grave face to relax and his eyes 
twinkled appreciatively. 

'‘Yes, sir. I will follow your advice and practise 
at a target, sir.” 

Then at last I reached my lady. 

I looked into her eyes and she gave me her two 
hands. Low I bent my head over her fingers, so soft 
and warm in my clasp, but before I could press my 
lips to them she had withdrawn them from me, and 
putting her arms round my neck kissed me on the 
forehead. 

“I have always wished to kiss your forehead, Peter,” 
she said, with the artlessness of a child. “It is such 
a nice forehead.” 

What was a man to answer to that? 

I said nothing, but I kissed her not on her hands, 
nor yet on her forehead alone, but again and again, 
wherever I could, until she hid her face against my 
shoulder with a little gasp for breath. 

“And you intended going into exile with me?’’ I 
asked at length. “How did you persuade his High¬ 
ness, and how did you know which choice I would 
make?” 

“I told his Highness that he could not prevent me 
going except by imprisoning me, and as to the other 
question I have not made you my chief study all these 
weeks to no purpose. I knew beforehand which choice 
you would make.” 


MY LADY’S BARGAIN 


298 

Two years have passed since I began to write this 
history of “My Lady’s Bargain,” and how it affected 
my life. 

My brother-in-law and I came through our term of 
expiation unscathed, through God’s merciful provi¬ 
dence. 

We never served under Major-General Fortescue, 
after all, for that gallant soldier had already died, all 
unknown to us, even before Cromwell spoke his name 
that morning in November, 1655. 

His successor, Major-General Sedgwick, was a man 
in a thousand, a great-hearted, loyal-minded gentle¬ 
man, to serve under whom was an honor and an edu¬ 
cation, and it was no small grief to us when that deeply 
religious soul also returned to his Maker the follow¬ 
ing June, another victim of the bad climate and the 
arduous endeavor men were called upon to endure in 
those far-away islands. 

On my return to England I met Lord and Lady 
Killigew again, for his Highness had acted with that 
wise magnanimity which was a part of his complex 
character, and after a short imprisonment had re¬ 
leased his lordship conditionally upon his good be¬ 
havior. 

Rookherst Place is still the home of my lady and 
myself, for Sir Reginald Lovet bought the estate when 
it was put up for sale, and it appeared to be the unan¬ 
imous desire of all branches of the family that it 


A FAMILY PARTY 


299 

should become the possession of my lady and her hum¬ 
ble servant Peter Williams. 

I confess this generosity overwhelms me somewhat 
even now, and I still feel I am an interloper when my 
eyes rest upon that lifelike portrait of my Lady Killi- 
gew hanging in the hall. But my lady says that is 
rubbish, and she believes little Peter will be more 
sensible, which is likely, for he seemeth to be a re¬ 
markably sensible infant for his age, and has his 
mother’s eyes. 
























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